


1633

by neonsign



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4
Genre: Depression, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 85,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsign/pseuds/neonsign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All about three boys and a haunting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eta a billion years later: this is a mess and the first uhh two? chapters are insanely different from the rest because i wasn't really planning on going anywhere with this. i just had the first scene stuck in my head and it went from there and. anyway. please don't judge based on the first couple chapters i hate them with my whole tiny heart :*

The floor of the bus was disgusting. Snow tracked in from people’s boots, melted and swirling with dirt and discarded bits of garbage. But it was all Yosuke could look at; he couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the people around him out of some fear that they would  _know_. Even though there was no way they could, which was part of the entire problem. It didn’t make much sense. The entire thing went around in some kind of bizarre circle.

_“Where are you taking me?”_

“Don’t say it like that,” Yosuke sighed, holding his powered-off cellphone against his ear. “You make it sound like you’re my hostage or something.”

_“Am I not?”_

“Having a hostage would mean I get the chance to benefit somehow, right? So far, I’m not seeing anything good about this. It’s not like I had a say in this, either.” Yosuke closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, bouncing in his seat a little as the bus drove over one of Inaba’s many potholes. “Besides, if I know anything about this kind of situation, you’re the one that’s gonna benefit.”

_“What?”_

“I gotta help you find rest; tie up some lingering regret or whatever. I’ve seen movies like this. Haven’t you? I mean, when you were… still…”

He opened his eyes and looked up at the guy sitting backwards in the seat in front of him. All shaggy hair and blue eyes, sitting crosslegged with his arms resting along the back of his seat. Staring at Yosuke with a look of such boredom it came off as a little haughty.

 _“Alive,”_  Minato finished.

“Yeah.”

The bus stopped and picked up a girl about their age. She made her way to the back and out of all the empty seats, chose to sit in the seat beside Minato. Out of some kind of habit born from when he still breathed, Minato shifted a little to the side to give her space. It was unnecessary and judging by the bitter look on his face, he knew it. As if to add insult to no injury, the girl flipped her long hair to free it from the scarf wrapped around her neck, and instead of whipping him in the face, it passed through him like he wasn’t even there.

Minato sighed and turned his head to look out the window.

All that aside, he really did look surprisingly normal. Not at all like the ghosts Yosuke had seen in movies and manga – well, except for shoujo manga but Yosuke definitely didn’t read those. But no, Minato was just your regular, average, corporeal-looking young adult wearing regular, everyday clothes. Fitted jeans and a striped t-shirt that did, funny enough, make him look a little bit like a prisoner. His shoes, these clunky combat boots, were so tattered and old they had cracked everywhere his foot bent, but they were completely dry and clean, unaffected by the snow outside.

And as he watched the scenery pass by the window, it reflected in his eyes, as if there was actually a surface for the light to shine on.

* * *

As clever as Yosuke felt about using his cellphone as a way to talk to Minato without looking like he was talking to himself, the drawback was that it meant no headphones. No headphones, no music. No music meant higher levels of anxiety and higher levels of anxiety meant nausea and a heart beating so fast it hurt.

Yosuke swallowed hard and tried not to notice his reflection and Minato’s lack thereof in the windows as they walked down the corridor, coming to a halt in front of the second last door on the left. Which he just stared at. And stared at.

_“What’re you waiting for?”_

“Nothing,” Yosuke mumbled, and he pushed the door open.

Minato followed him into the room, looking around curiously, but it was just a normal hospital room. Everything was normal. Completely fine. No sense of urgency or imminent death, which was good. Yosuke’s mother was sitting upright in bed and she even smiled and waved when she saw him. Not that it really did anything to comfort him. If anything, it was worse knowing everything was inside where he  _couldn’t_  see it, couldn’t be sure it was fixed.

“Hey.” Yosuke held out the vase of flowers he’d bought in the gift shop. “I got you something. It’s – not much, I know, but…”

“They’re beautiful, Yosuke.”

He took a long time to place them on the bedside table, taking advantage of every second he didn’t have to look into her eyes and see that knowing look he feared would be there. The one people got when they could see through you. She was particularly good at it.

“So how’re you feeling?” Yosuke asked. He pulled up the chair next to her bed and perched himself on the very edge. Minato walked by the foot of the bed and over to the window, where Yosuke tried his hardest not to watch him. “The doctor said the surgery went really well.”

“I feel fine. The incision’s so tiny, I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. Welcome to the future.”

His mother laughed and said something, but Yosuke became too distracted by the scene by the window to hear it. Hands gripping the sill, Minato was leaning so far forward his head and shoulders passed through the glass like it was water.

It wasn’t the first strange thing he’d seen the guy do, but it happened so rarely that it was jarring every time. The first time he’d laid eyes on him, Minato had been floating by the ceiling above his bed, curled up in a ball like he was asleep – which had been horrifying. But since then he’d at least taken to walking around and pretending to interact with gravity like a normal person. Most of the time.

“Yosuke?”

“Uh – sorry,” Yosuke mumbled, looking back to his mother. He turned his chair around a little, putting the window just out of reach of his peripheral vision.

“Are you alright? You’re not still worried, are you? Your father told me you –”

“What? No, I’m fine,” Yosuke said dismissively. He kept his eyes on his hands as they fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket. “It was just hip replacement, not like you were getting brain surgery or something, right?”

“Makes me sound old, doesn’t it?” His mother smiled gently and leaned back against her pillows. “But I’m not  _that_  old. Apparently arthritis affects a number of people my age.”

“Exactly. No big deal.”

Yosuke looked over his shoulder. Minato’s head was back inside the hospital and he was leaning against the windowsill with his arms crossed. Their eyes met only briefly, but it was still long enough for Yosuke to recognize that knowing look.

* * *

_“Why’re you so upset? It was just a hip operation.”_

“Shut  _up_ ,” Yosuke snapped, momentarily forgetting he didn’t have his phone out; a woman sitting at the nurse’s station gave him a dirty look as he passed. Instead of bothering to take it out again, he lengthened his stride and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t planning on saying anything to Minato again, so it didn’t matter.

What  _did_  matter was finding the elevator, and if he could just fucking  _remember_  where it –

The world jerked around him, the floor disappeared, and all the air vanished from his lungs. Something hard slammed into Yosuke’s back and the next thing he knew he was looking up at a bright florescent ceiling light. And then Minato’s face as he leaned over him, wearing a smug smirk.

_“Nice one.”_

“Shut –”

“Are you alright?!”

This third voice sounded genuinely worried, and it more than anything prompted Yosuke to fight the urge to just lie there and melt into the floor. Back aching a little, he sat up and looked around, finding himself staring at a pair of long legs and a mop. He followed them up to their owner; someone wearing a janitor’s uniform and a look of wide-eyed concern.

“Here,” the janitor said, holding out a hand. Despite wanting to smack it away and run for cover, Yosuke took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. A little dizzy and a lot embarrassed, he averted his eyes, and only then did they land on the yellow caution sign that warned of a wet floor.

“Uh… Thanks…”

“No problem.” The janitor removed his hat and scratched at his head, leaning a little on his mop. “Or, uh, maybe I should be saying sorry.”

Yosuke forced a smile for the guy’s benefit, because that was what he wanted.  _Yosuke_  just wanted to get out of there.  

_“Souji?”_

Yosuke looked over his shoulder and felt his heart give an odd thump. Minato was staring at the janitor with a look he could only describe as anguished. An expression he’d seen faked by countless actors, but never made in real life. It was the most emotion Yosuke had yet seen on that blank face, which just made it that much worse.

Minato took a step forward and hesitated, but then he spun on his heel and bolted down the hall.

“Minato!”

“What?”

Yosuke looked back at the janitor, who was staring at him and looking a little confused.

“Uh – sorry.” Yosuke gestured toward the windows to his left. Despite the fact they were several storeys high, he said, “I thought I just, uh – saw someone I know? I have to go.”

And with that, he too turned and ran off down the hall, though this time being much more careful on the slippery floor.

* * *

Minato hadn’t been far away. He never was. Whatever was causing Yosuke to see him in the first place was also making it impossible for them to separate. For better or for worse.

He’d been sitting against the wall with his hands pressed to his face when Yosuke found him. Right by the nurse’s station Yosuke had accidentally yelled at, and the nurse was still there, giving him the stink eye.

Under the pretense of tying his shoes, Yosuke knelt down beside Minato, lowering his voice and speaking as gently as he knew how. “Are you okay?” But no answer came. Yosuke tied and untied and tied his shoe, over and over, but still nothing. “Did you used to know him?”

_“Stop.”_

Minato let out a long, slow breath from between his hands.

_“Can we please just go? Please.”_

“Yeah,” Yosuke sighed, getting to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s been _days_.”

Curled up in his desk chair, Yosuke tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. It was blue from the glow of his laptop’s screen, occasionally flashing white and orange from whatever Minato was watching on TV.

Yosuke turned his head and gazed across the room at the ghost curled up on his bed.

“Will you please talk to me? The sooner we figure this out, the sooner I can help you move on. That janitor’s got something to do with it, right? What, was he your murderer? Your boyfriend? …Both?”

 _“Will you stop?”_ Minato didn’t raise his voice, but with the irritation dripping off it he didn’t even need to. _“Why are you so hung up on being some chosen one or something?”_

“Wh-?!” Yosuke sat up straight and glared at him. “I’m not! But what else could this be? I’m literally the only person that can see you.”

_“Go see a therapist and leave me the hell alone.”_

That night, when Minato was curled up in the closet and fast asleep – if he even _could_ sleep – Yosuke pulled out his phone and started searching the internet for a qualified exorcist.

* * *

If Yosuke had been paying attention to where he was going like he’d been told to all his life, he would’ve noticed something was out of place. Instead, he walked into the hospital room while glaring over his shoulder at Minato, who had just been making some smartass comment about the band playing through Yosuke’s headphones.

Turning back to his mother, he put on what he hoped was a casual smile. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” she said, watching him set a new vase of flowers on her bedside table. “I’ve had company.”

Yosuke looked around as he straightened back up and his stomach dropped. The janitor was standing by the window, leaning against the sill and smiling kindly at him. Yosuke tried to return it but he could feel how stiff his face was. Most likely he just looked like he was in pain.

“This is Souji,” Yosuke’s mother said. “He’s been stopping by to talk now and then. Keeping me from getting too bored while I wait around for my tardy son and husband. Souji, this is my son Yosuke.”

“We’ve met,” Souji said, which was a polite way to put it. “I didn’t know she was your mother.”

“Y- Uh, yeah,” Yosuke laughed awkwardly. “Small world, huh?”

Just then, the vase of flowers fell to the floor and smashed.

“Oh, Yosuke,” his mother clucked, “you set them too close to the edge.”

He hadn’t. They’d been right in the middle of the table.

Yosuke looked over his shoulder. Minato wasn’t in the room.

* * *

Pulling his hood up, Yosuke stepped out of hospital and into the dark and biting cold, completely alone for what felt like the first time in a long time. Minato was still nowhere to be found, which was probably a bad thing. Unless he was floating somewhere just out of sight. At that thought, Yosuke looked up at the sky, squinting suspiciously.

There was a lot they didn’t know yet about whatever it was keeping the two of them together. Maybe it was like a chain that had snapped over whatever trauma Souji had caused and now left Minato free to go be miserable somewhere else. Or maybe he was just getting more of a foothold in this world as time passed. That brought with it some uncomfortable possibilities, so Yosuke quickly pushed it from his mind – which was easy to do when he heard his name being called.

Souji was standing beside a truck in the parking lot, halfway through unlocking the door. Some rusted little thing that somehow managed to make him look even taller in comparison.

“Are you taking the bus? I could give you a ride.”

Yosuke looked at the truck and pursed his lips, trying and failing not to let too much of his distaste show on his face. Instead of an answer either way he asked, “Weren’t you ever taught not to talk to strangers?”

The corner of Souji’s mouth twitched. “It’s a bad habit of mine; I like listening to people talk.”

“You really think my mom’s that interesting? Did she tell you the waterskiing story?”

“Everyone’s interesting in their own way.” Souji tilted his head and smiled serenely. “There’s something really special about watching people light up when they talk about things they care about.”

Which was such a genuine and embarrassing response that Yosuke almost felt himself physically recoil. Settling instead with a blush he hoped could be attributed to the cold, he coughed nervously and averted his eyes. “Jeez.”

With an abrupt return to the situation at hand, Souji gestured to his truck.

“So do you want a ride?”

* * *

Souji, Yosuke quickly learned, was not an open book. All he found out about the guy while they were stuck in the truck together was that Souji was just visiting Inaba, living with his uncle while he took a year off school. Then it was back to the city for him so he could start university.

“Maybe,” Souji shrugged. “We’ll see.”

And that was it. True to his word, he seemed to like listening rather than talking, but knowing this had put Yosuke on edge, clamming up out of fear of the spotlight. Most of the ride was just them sitting in silence, seeing as how Souji was apparently one of those freaks that didn’t play music while he drove. Or the truck’s stereo was just busted. Both seemed entirely plausible.  

Now and then Yosuke peeked sideways as they passed under a streetlamp. Even with the oppressive silence, Souji didn’t seem to be uncomfortable. He leaned back in his seat, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other propping his head up. Finger tapping the wheel to some beat playing in his head.

And Yosuke, for some reason, found himself a little more at ease. Smothering a smirk behind his hand, he turned to watch the scenery through the passenger window.

* * *

Yosuke flicked on his bedroom light and nearly jumped out of his skin, crying out so loud his father called from downstairs to ask if he was alright. Grunting angrily, he grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor and whipped them at his bed where they sailed right through Minato and hit the wall.

“You scared me the shit out of me! Where the hell did you go?”

 _“Sorry…”_ Minato cracked his knuckles and looked all around the room. Anywhere but at him.

“Well… whatever," Yosuke sighed. "Welcome back, I guess."

He closed the door a little sharply and strode over to his closet to look for another hoodie to pull over the one he was already wearing. No matter how warm it was inside the house, the chill from outside wouldn’t leave him. Being the old pile of junk that it was, it had taken Souji’s truck a long time to heat up; they were already halfway home by the time the heater had started blowing air that was more than just lukewarm.

Just as Yosuke sat at his desk and started contemplating getting a mug of hot chocolate from downstairs, Minato spoke.

_“I think I found out what happens if I get too far away from you.”_

Yosuke looked at him but his head was lowered as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. This was the first time Minato had ever appeared uncomfortable and it was almost as disconcerting as the look he’d worn when he first saw Souji.

“Seriously? Tell me about it.”

Minato swallowed hard and shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly. _“Uh… I just kept walking, and… the farther I got, eventually I started to hurt – just, all over. My bones, my skin… And – I don’t need to breathe, but – it still felt like I was suffocating. Then I kind of… blacked out. And woke up here.”_ Minato took a deep breath, as if talking this much for once was physically taxing. Eyes darting all over from behind his hair, he twisted his hands in his lap. _“I think it’s because it’s ‘your place.’ Kind of like an anchor. Like you are.”_

Yosuke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s so messed up.”

_“Yeah.”_

“Are you okay now, though? I mean…”

_“Yeah. Thanks.”_

* * *

“Are you ever going to tell me how you died?”

From where he sat crosslegged on the floor Minato reached for the handheld gaming system Yosuke had on the coffee table, but his hand went right through it. He tried again, face screwing up in concentration… and his hand went right through it. But this time it shifted maybe a centimetre to the left.

“C’mon. At least give me that much. I gotta start figuring this out if we’re ever gonna get you out of here and exorcists are too expensive. You don’t even have to tell me about what went on between you and Souji.” Yosuke reached over and snatched the video game away from Minato’s grasping hand. “Your phasing shit better not have messed this thing up. Have you never read a comic book in your life?”

Minato looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. Then up at Yosuke, frowning a little.

_“You looked into exorcism?”_

Yosuke nodded.

To his surprise, Minato laughed for the first time.

_“I would’ve, too.”_

* * *

“She got home okay?” Yosuke pressed the phone to his ear, listening to a real, live person on the other end for once.

“She’s fine,” his father replied. “You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah I do, that’s why I’m asking _you._ ”

His father sighed with his mouth too close to the receiver, creating blowback on the line. Yosuke grimaced and held the phone a little away from his ear, and as such missed the beginning of his father’s answer. “… gets tired a little easy, but that’s expected; she’s been through a lot. She’s fine. We’re not that old yet, you know.”

“Hmm… I’m learning that that’s just something old people say.” Yosuke ducked beneath Aiya's noren and slid open the door, holding it for Minato despite the fact he could’ve just walked through the wall or something. He thought he saw a trace of a smile on Minato’s face as he passed. “I mean it, Dad. Watch out for her.”

“Oh? Aren’t you the one who went out for something to eat instead of staying to welcome her home? Or maybe I’m misreading the note you left on the fridge.”

Yosuke faltered. “I…”

Then someone in one of the booths was waving at him.

“Souji,” Yosuke said blankly.

“What?”

“Nothing, Dad. I’ll be home later, okay?”

Without another word, Yosuke hung up and put his phone back in his pocket, hurrying over to Souji’s booth. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Souji grinned.

_“Please don’t. Let’s go somewhere else.”_

Minato was sitting on one of the bar stools, unblinking eyes on the floor and hair falling about his face. Yosuke hesitated but he couldn’t think of some way to turn heel and bolt that wasn’t completely rude, so he was left with sliding into Souji’s booth whether he wanted to or not. Which he kind of did.

Minato closed his eyes and scrubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. A couple tables over, a man cried out and jumped to his feet as his gyūdon was knocked into his lap.

* * *

“For what it’s worth: I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t.

“But I am surprised you didn’t run this time. Or stab me. Because now that I think about it… there was probably a lot of knives in there.”

Instead of lagging behind like he usually did, dragged along only by his otherworldly leash like some kind of pathetic dog, Minato was matching Yosuke’s pace step for step. The only difference between them was that only one was leaving footprints in the snow. Watching his foot pass through a snowdrift, Minato licked his lips nervously.

_“It’s… not like I can control it. When I knock things over or whatever, it just kind of… happens.”_

“Wait, really? That’s not good.” Yosuke thought for a moment. “Or was that you admitting you would’ve stabbed me if you could?”

Minato forced a half-laugh that was almost lost in the howling wind. It was picking up the longer they were out, assaulting Yosuke with a fresh wave of snow that clung to his eyelashes and nearly blinded him. It had been still and sunny when he’d left the house earlier. Some bitter part of him was wondering if this was Minato’s doing too; payback for making him sit in Souji’s presence for over an hour.

Yosuke pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. The one good thing about the snowstorm was that he hadn’t had to use it to talk to Minato, because no one else was stupid enough to be out in this weather.

_“Are you messaging him already?”_

“No,” Yosuke said defensively, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “Relax. I was just checking the time.”

_“It was turned off.”_

Yosuke groaned and tugged his sleeves down over his numb fingers. “Man, why are you even here? We already established you can stay in my room while I’m out right? Or do you just like hanging out with me that much?”

_“What am I supposed to do at your house? Stare at the wall? I can’t touch anything.”_

“Yeah, well,” Yosuke mumbled, “boohoo. Better than watching me flirt with your ex, right?”

_“That was flirting?”_

“What? It obviously was. And he was totally flirting back, too! He gave me his number and everything.”

 _“He wasn’t,”_ Minato sighed wearily. _“Souji’s just like that, he’s… too nice. Everyone always thinks he’s into them and he doesn’t have enough self-awareness to tone it down.”_

“Whatever,” Yosuke muttered. "Man, is this you being jealous or something? Move on."

_“Yosuke.”_

Minato stopped abruptly. Yosuke was a couple steps ahead before he did as well, and then the two just stared at one another.

Standing in the middle of a small snowstorm wearing just a t-shirt and jeans, hair and clothes completely stationary despite the blowing wind, Minato was just as much an odd sight then as he was when he chose to hover or walk through solid objects.

 _“Be kind to Souji,”_ Minato said, _“and leave him the hell alone.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering why i stuck souji with a [tiny little truck](https://www.google.ca/search?q=1971+Hilux&es_sm=122&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0CBwQsARqFQoTCO-hrsnxickCFQmkHgodTIgILQ&biw=1538&bih=839), i literally have no reason other than i think it's hilarious


	3. Chapter 3

When he stuck his finger into his mouth – sharp with teeth and wet with spit – and down his throat, he gagged. When he laced his fingers together and stretched his arms out until they bent backwards, his knuckles popped. If he pressed his fingers to his ribs, he could count each one as they expanded with breaths he didn’t need to take. Not that he had a reflection to check, but when he touched his face it felt familiar. And when he had asked Yosuke and pointed to the corner of his mouth, Yosuke confirmed that yes, there was a freckle there.

For all intents and purposes, it was his own body wearing his own clothes.

Sitting crosslegged on the foot of the bed, watching whatever was on TV while Yosuke snored gently behind him, Minato pressed two fingers below his jaw. Eyes closed while he focused. There was a heartbeat but was it coming from a heart? Or was it his memory of having one given form?

Yosuke mumbled something in his sleep and Minato looked over his shoulder to watch him rub unconsciously at his eye – but then noticed his phone sitting on the bedside table. The screen was illuminated with a new message.

Out of pure boredom, he crawled along the bed to sit beside the table and peer down at it, just to see who it was – and was unsurprised but still incredibly irritated to see Souji’s name.

Yosuke hadn’t listened to him. They’d been hanging out all week.

It wasn’t really unexpected. Minato wasn’t giving the guy anything to go on other than ‘don’t do it,’ and there was nothing that made you want to do something more than someone telling you not to. Being vague wasn’t helping but explaining one thing meant explaining another and he wasn’t ready for that.

He swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. The clock on the table was saying it was only three in the morning. There was still hours to go until Yosuke woke up, and even then all Minato was going to do was follow him around Junes while he bitched and moaned under his breath about how much he hated his job.

Just drifting around from point A to point B. That was familiar, at least.

Yosuke made another noise and Minato watched him scrunch his face up at a strand of hair tickling his nose. He made to brush it away – until he remembered he wouldn’t be able to touch it.

Just as he was about to pull his hand back, a thought occurred to him and he paused.

The heart that may or may not have been in his chest started beating painfully fast.

With his shaking hand hovering just over Yosuke’s face, Minato swallowed hard. Then he moved it down, down, down, where it came to a stop just over Yosuke’s chest.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, part of him wishing for Yosuke to wake up before he could do anything. Trying to explain why he was looming over him like a stereotypical spirit straight out of some horror story would be easier to deal with than if this took a turn for the worse. It wasn't like he knew what he was doing, really. Just moving on some kind of instinct that told him this was the thing to do.

Another deep breath and Minato slowly lowered his hand. It passed through the thin material of Yosuke’s shirt – and then his skin, flesh, and bone – and into a cool river with a strong current. Unable to watch it any more, Minato squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, feeling –  _really feeling_ – someone or something or anything since he woke up like this.

The longer it went on, the stronger the current grew, threatening to pull him in, sweep him away. And he wanted to let it. It was wrong to be stuck in between something and nothing. Inside was everything; it was more and he used to be more. He wanted it that way again. It could be that way again. The river promised – Showed? Remembered? – knit scarves and muffled breath, the sting of chlorine in his eyes, fingers calloused against guitar strings, frozen sand on the beach in winter, a couple arguing, fog in the city with rain on the concrete, kids laughing, school bells, whispers in his ear, fingers combing through soft hair, and a jolt of something warm and electric that shot up his spine –

The TV sparked and popped and Minato wrenched his hand back, breathing hard. Cradling it to his chest, he stood up and took a step back, swallowing hard past the nausea churning in his gut.

With a deep breath Yosuke rolled over, turning his back to Minato. Still fast asleep.

Minato looked at the TV, at the thin coil of smoke curling from within it, then down at his hand. And he let out a shaky breath. 

 

* * *

 

_“Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”_

Yosuke placed another bag of sugar on the shelf. Then another before avoiding the question with, “Do I want to know why you’re asking?”

 _“I’m just curious,”_  Minato said simply, leaving ‘I felt her when I was rooting around in your chest’ unspoken. He didn’t need to know about that.

“I –”

A customer turned into the aisle, pushing a cart full of groceries and leading a young child by the hand, and Yosuke gave Minato a subtle shake of his head to tell him ‘wait.’

While he dealt with her, telling here where she could find various things from her list, Minato cracked his knuckles and watched the kid playing with a toy camera, which just made him remember his own. It was probably long gone, gifted to a second-hand store or pawned away. And that went for everything else he owned too. It was all gone.

Only when the customer walked down the aisle and turned out of sight did Yosuke speak again. Placing another bag of sugar on the shelf, he said, “This has something to do with Souji, doesn’t it? You’ve been pretty weird about it lately. Weirder than normal, I mean.”

Minato didn’t answer but maybe he didn’t need to.

Yosuke gave him a weary look. Another bag of sugar on the shelf, and he said, “I had a girlfriend in high school. Didn’t last very long. We didn’t even… really like each other.”

“ _I don’t get it. Why be with her if you don’t like her?”_

“I dunno. 'Cause, we were both just… lonely, I guess," Yosuke mumbled awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Man, what is this about?”

_“Nothing. No reason. I don’t know.”_

“Uh… Okay?” After placing the last bag on the shelf, Yosuke brushed his hands off on the front of his apron and straightened up. “Well, you know we’re hanging out again tonight, right? Souji and me. We’re meeting in Okina for a bit. Do you… want me to take you home first?”

Minato chewed his lip, chapped like it always had been, peeling back a piece of skin until he tasted blood.

The anxiety he felt around Souji added to the mental exhaustion of spending all his time around people, versus another dull, droning night spent alone with nothing to do now that he broke the TV. Or maybe heading downstairs and watching whatever Yosuke's parents were watching. It was lose/lose any way he looked at it. Death really wasn’t turning out to be any different than life.

Minato wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, leaving a small smear of blood. Or the memory of it. Or something. _“You’re asking me?”_

“What? Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

_“Just leave me at home. It can’t be fun to have me lurking over your shoulder all the time, right?”_

“I didn’t say that,” Yosuke said slowly.

_“You didn’t have to.”_

“Uh… Is this still about Souji?”

Minato didn’t say anything and Yosuke hesitated, waiting as he watched a small family pass by the end of the aisle. As soon as they were gone, he turned to Minato and leaned close, lowering his voice.

“Look, I asked because I’m not an idiot. I can see being around Souji is hard for you – you’ve made it pretty hard for me  _not_  to notice. And I’m – I’m not saying I don’t… like you being there or anything, okay? I’m doing the best I can with what you’re giving me, which is nothing. So…” Yosuke straightened up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Do you wanna come or not?”

His words hung heavy in the air while they stared at one another, until Minato was the first to break eye contact. Twisting the hem of his shirt as he stared at the shelf of sugar, he made an odd movement somewhere between a shrug and shaking his head.

_“Sure.”_

 

* * *

 

For a while things were normal – or as normal as they could be. Days and then eventually weeks passed with nothing of note happening, and yet Yosuke didn’t find himself to be bored. Moving to Inaba hadn’t exactly been an adventure up until that point and while the town was still as uninteresting as possible, spending time with Souji and even Minato made it bearable.

For his part, Minato was making somewhat of an effort to be less of a broken record, though he was still remaining as tight-lipped as Souji tended to be as well. Both of them took everything in and gave nothing away, leaving Yosuke somewhere in the middle, begging for scraps.

 

* * *

 

“Your phone’s ringing.”

From where he stood in the kitchen Souji held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, covered in grease from the beef he was slicing. “Can you see who it is for me?”

“Yeah, it’s your mom. I think? Do you have your mom in your phone by her name? That’s kind of weird,” Yosuke teased. Souji didn’t say anything, but the knife snapped against the cutting bored. “Souji?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” he said a little too kindly. “You can just mute it if you want.”

“Uh… Okay.” Yosuke looked at Minato, who was sitting at the living room table across from Nanako, hoping maybe to get some kind of answer from him. But he was too busy staring at Souji’s back with an oddly soft, thoughtful look to notice the way Yosuke was snapping his fingers. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Yosuke said, “You never talk about your parents.”

“Don’t I?”

“No… You don’t…”

“Huh.”

 _"Don't,"_ Minato mumbled.

Yosuke toyed with the wire of his headphones, watching the quiz show Nanako had on the TV for a while. All he knew about Souji’s family was… nothing, really. Souji had briefly mentioned his parents were abroad, and Yosuke had met Dojima briefly and they hung out with Nanako sometimes, but beyond that there was nothing. And that went for a lot of things about Souji.

Yosuke had picked up little things along the way, like that he fed stray cats and always ate his meals in a certain order, one item at a time; he held his bangs down every time the wind blew because the only thing in the world he was self-conscious about was his thick eyebrows, and he liked colourful patterned socks even if the rest of him was dressed in dark neutrals and respectable button-ups. But all this told Yosuke was that Souji was a bit weird. It wasn't really anything of substance.

“Do you want help? I feel bad just sitting here.”

“No, I’ve got it. Thank you, though.”

“Big Bro said doesn’t like people helping him cook,” Nanako informed him, adding proudly, “except me.”

“Oh, you must be a master chef,” Yosuke grinned.

Now that Yosuke thought about it though, maybe he just hadn't been paying attention. When they'd first met, Souji had gone on about how much he liked people, and he did the same thing every time Yosuke apologized for rambling and talking all the time, assuring him that no, it was okay; he liked listening to people talk, remember? Yet whenever Yosuke called him to hang out - and it was always  _him_  calling - Souji was available. He was never with anyone else. Someone as friendly as him should’ve been surrounded by people but he’d been in Inaba for over half a year and still, nothing.

Yosuke got to his feet and walked over to stand beside him. “C’mon, let me help.”

Souji’s hands faltered for a moment, then he pointed his knife at a green bell pepper. "Cut that into strips. And wash your hands first.”

“Yes, sir.”

The kitchen was small, they kept bumping elbows, and if Yosuke was completely honest with himself, he was already regretting his offer of help. Besides, doing something that only seemed to annoy Souji was a poor tactical choice if he was going to try to get anything out of him. Although he might not have been annoyed at all; it's not like it was easy to tell anything by that face.

“So…” Yosuke drawled, “your parents.”

“What about them?”

“I’m curious. What’re they like?”

“That’s a vague question.”

“And that’s a vague answer." 

“My parents left the country for work and left me with a relative I didn't know,” Souji muttered low enough that Nanako wouldn’t hear. “That tells you everything you need to know about them. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

 _"Leave him alone,"_  Minato called over.  _"You're so nosy."_

“The only music my mother listens to is singing bowls," Souji said listlessly, "and my father is a yoga enthusiast.”

“What? No, that’s not what I… Ugh, I'm not saying this right. I just wanna hear you talk about yourself,” Yosuke said a little awkwardly, pushing the pepper pieces into a pile. “Like if you get along with them or something. I’m not talking facts, I just mean like… what you think about things."

"Why?"

"You’re my friend, I shouldn’t have to play 21 Questions just to get to know you. It’s… kind of really annoying. And it’s not fair that you know so much about me but I – I mean, it’s a two-way street, right?”

Once he finished slicing the beef, Souji laid down his knife and turned to Yosuke with a smile, which hadn’t been the reaction he’d expected at all.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Uh… It’s okay,” Yosuke said a little uncertainly. After his big impassioned speech Souji’s words sounded a little too simple, too easily given, but he supposed he should be happy all the same. Just as long as it got through.

 

* * *

 

“Okay. You said you played basketball in high school. Answer honestly: were you any good?”

“No,” Souji admitted easily. “I’m just tall and I’ve got long limbs, so some guy from the team recruited me. I had no reason not to, so…”

“Were you in any other clubs?”

“Drama.”

"No shit?" Yosuke snorted as he changed the song playing on his MP3 player. It crackled out through the truck’s speakers a little roughly, but at least it was something. Turned out that the stereo worked fine but Souji really just was of those people that drove without music. “I can’t see you in drama. You’re not exactly the most expressive guy. Though you don’t really have any shame, so I guess that helps.”

Instead of getting offended like he probably should have, Souji just smiled a little. “You should see me; I’m good. One time I had a classmate tell me my death as Okita made her father cry.”

"Pff."

Souji shifted gears as they merged onto the highway. The truck’s engine grew so loud the music was barely audible and Yosuke almost had to shout his next question.

“Alright, uh... Oh - favourite band?”

“Don’t have one. Whatever you’re playing right now is good, though.”

“How can you not…? Whatever,” Yosuke sighed. “Man, I had all these questions before but now I’m just blanking. Umm…”

Switching the song again, he tried his hardest not to acknowledge the question existing just beyond his mind’s peripheral, but it still managed to hover over him and push all others away. It was an innocent enough question and in context one that most people would probably ask. There was just something that seemed unfair about asking it when he already knew some things about the answer. Exactly  _what_  he thought he knew, he wasn’t entirely sure, but it still seemed unfair.

Still, one thing Yosuke lacked was good impulse control, so when he blurted out, “Ever dated someone?” he was entirely unsurprised with himself, though a little uncomfortable about how much he sounded like Minato.

“No. I move a lot. It’s not exactly an ideal situation for starting a relationship.”

“ _Oh_.”

Souji laughed a little. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“No, I – I dunno, I guess I just… didn’t expect… I thought – I don’t know.” Floundering, desperate for a change of topic, Yosuke said nervously, “Anyway, uh... You’ll be heading back to the city in a few months, right? Any ideas on what you’re gonna do? Career-wise?”

“Hm…” Souji shivered and turned up the heat. “I don’t know. If Dojima will let me, I want to stay here for a bit more. Maybe just do school online or something, I don’t know.”

“What? Why?”

Souji shrugged. “I don’t want to go back yet. I don’t know what I want to do as career or for school or anything. I just want to stay here and figure it out. I've got money saved up from work, so if my parents say no and Dojima doesn't want to start anything with them, I'll just move out. Find my own place.”

“Oh.”

Another silence, and then Souji looked at Yosuke with a small smile on his face. “Any other questions? We’re almost there.”

“Yeah. Did you really need me along just to help pick out Christmas gifts?”

“I’m bad at gifts,” Souji laughed. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

 

* * *

 

One of the shelves in Souji’s room was packed tight with DVDs. Sitting in front of it, Yosuke gestured and said, “You know, I didn’t really have you pegged as a big movie fan. I mean, almost every time we go see one you fall asleep halfway through.”

“I’m not.” Souji sat down next to Yosuke, so close that their knees bumped. “These all belonged to someone I used to know.”

Under the cover of turning his head to scratch behind his ear, Yosuke glanced back at Minato, who was sitting with arms and legs crossed on the couch. Staring at the back of Souji’s head, chewing his lip.

Already knowing the answer, Yosuke asked, "How'd you end up with them?"

"He passed away."

"Oh... Sorry."

Souji reached forward and plucked a movie off the shelf. Judging by the cover it was some sci-fi. The kind about mankind’s achievements and drive for more, their faults as a species, and their potential to grow. The kind filled with really cool explosions and hot aliens.

“This isn’t even the whole collection,” Souji chuckled quietly. “I just brought what I could with me to Inaba for… I don’t know. Something to do while I’m here, I guess. You should see the rest of it back at my place in the city.”

Yosuke stared at him but Souji kept his eyes on the DVD, his face as impassive and impossible to figure out as ever.

“I’d – I’d like to,” Yosuke stammered a little too eagerly. A sudden nervousness had seized him, so he curled his shaking hands into fists and hoped Souji wouldn’t noticed. “See your place in the city, I mean. I’ve – I’ve never been to Iwatodai.”

Souji looked up and met Yosuke’s gaze with a gentle smile, which only brought Yosuke’s eyes to his lips. “I think you’d like it.”

Mind blank and body numb, Yosuke leaned forward a little.

And Souji got to his feet.

“Are you thirsty? You want something to drink?”

“Ah,” Yosuke said, still staring at where his lips had been, “okay.”

There was a beat of silence, then the ceiling light exploded with a shower of sparks and the window reverberated with a sound like a gunshot as if something – a telekinetic wave, maybe – had hit it with incredible force.

 

* * *

 

It was entirely possible Souji was every bit as lacking in self-awareness as Minato had once said, but it seemed to extend to impossible lengths. The light in his bedroom had exploded and as he swept up the pieces while Minato sat with his head in his hands, Souji came to the conclusion that it was some kind of power surge. As for something hitting his window at the exact same time, he figured was probably a bird. When Yosuke raised his eyebrow at this, he shrugged and said, “There are some pretty big birds in the country.”

“He’s acting like nothing happened,” Yosuke said the next day. He held up his cellphone so Minato could see the picture of somebody’s fat dog Souji had sent to him, to which Minato scoffed irritably and turned his back. “I don’t think he even realizes what I tried to do.”

_“Maybe because the thought of trying to kiss someone right after they talked about their dead ex is too stupid to consider.”_

"Look, I already apologized for doing that in front of -” Yosuke blinked. “Wait, he’s your ex?”

_“Wasn’t that the first conclusion you came to? Behind ‘murderer,’ I mean.”_

“Well - yeah, but… Souji said he’s never been with…”

Yosuke's voice trailed off; Minato suddenly looked livid. It was different than the time he had tried to warn Yosuke off after their time in Aiya; less upset and world-weary, more wide eyes and curled lip. Every bit as terrified as angry.

_“You were talking to him about me?”_

“Not directly, but –”

 _“Why would you do that?”_  Minato snapped.  _“What is **wrong** with you?”_

“I wasn’t -! I just asked if he’d ever been with someone and he said no!”

Minato stared at him. Then pushed himself off Yosuke’s bed with a huff, running his fingers through his hair and combing it back off his face. He stood there for a moment, eyes closed, then let his arms fall. He walked over to the broken TV, his feet making no noise against the floor even in those clunky boots. Sticking his hand through the screen, he swirled it around for a moment before taking it back out and looking down at it. Curling and uncurling his hand into a fist. Stalling, hesitating.

The way the late afternoon sunlight pouring through the window shone on him, turning his skin a warm golden colour and shimmering in his hair, he easily could have been a normal person. The only difference was he wasn't casting a shadow. As if the world could affect him, but he couldn’t affect the world. The line was drawn somewhere that made no sense. It curved and divided on a whim.

_“It was suicide.”_

Yosuke stared. Minato kept his back turned to him.

_“I killed myself.”_


	4. Chapter 4

Yosuke stared down at his phone, chewing on the straw of his juice box. One of the other part-timers came in and knocked his feet off the breakroom table but he couldn’t even be bothered to respond. Whatever they said was blocked out by his headphones, which would probably come back to bite him in the ass the next time they wanted him to talk to his dad about their shifts or something, but he had more important things to deal with.

As if it could help, as if there was anything normal about their situation, Yosuke was scrolling through his phone and reading various forums where people discussed suicide. People who had known someone who killed themselves or had attempted it themselves and survived. Their thoughts, their regrets, things and people they were thankful for. Advice on how to help someone who had attempted it.

If they could get over whatever was keeping Minato in limbo, then he could move on. That was why Yosuke could see him; he needed help getting there. Wherever ‘there’ was. Yosuke had believed that from the beginning and now that he knew the cause of it all, he was starting to see a path forward. It was a good feeling after weeks of nothing, even if everything was a bit grim.

Yosuke put his phone back in his pocket and rubbed his hands over his face, stifling a yawn. Last night’s sleep hadn’t exactly been a good one. Minato had given him a lot to think about with just a couple sentences.

He’d never really given much thought to suicide before. Not any more than the normal person, probably. He had thought about death and what might come after, but until a dead boy appeared above his bed he’d been more concerned with stupid things. Finding something to pass the time with in Inaba. Or someone. Friends. A girlfriend or boyfriend. He still was, he supposed, seeing as how Souji was part of the picture and there was definitely interest there – on Yosuke’s end, at least. Who knew what Souji was thinking.

Maybe Souji wasn’t thinking anything about it at all, depending on how long ago Minato had died. Which just brought to light more complications, like if the feelings he was quite obviously getting for Souji were just making everything worse, or if he’d have to give them up for the solution.

Yosuke got to his feet and walked out of the breakroom. His father was in his office, head bowed over some paperwork. Right where he knew he’d be.

“Dad.”

“Yes?” When Yosuke didn’t answer right away, the man looked up, frowning a little in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go home early. I really don’t feel good.”

Yosuke’s father scrutinized his face suspiciously. It wasn’t without reason; Yosuke had faked being sick to get out of work before. He wasn’t even being entirely honest this time. While he really didn’t feel good it was more of an emotional thing than anything else. It must’ve shown either way.

“Alright,” his father sighed. “Why don’t you take some chicken noodle soup home with you?”

Yosuke shook his head, already backing up toward the door. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Dad.”

“Everything alright with you? You’ve been… off all day. For a while now, actually.”

“Yeah,” Yosuke said, smiling for his sake. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Alright… See you later.”

 

* * *

  

“Hi, Nanako. Is Souji home?”

“No, he said he was going out for a drive.”

Yosuke fidgeted nervously with his headphone cord. Souji hadn’t been picking up his cell for a couple days now. If he had gone somewhere without reception and they just kept missing each other, then maybe that was all it was. Unless he’d finally put together the pieces and realized Yosuke had tried to kiss him and it had been so off-putting for him that now he was just avoiding Yosuke altogether. Or he was just somewhere with no reception. There were lots of those in Inaba.

“Um – hello?”

“S-sorry, Nanako. Uh… Just tell him I called when he gets back, okay?”

 

* * *

 

In the city the sidewalks were always plowed or the foot traffic was so heavy that the snow was at least packed down enough to create something of a path. Rarely was that the case in the country. Unless you wanted to trek through the snow, you had to walk on the road. Right in the path of the cars. Cars with very little traction.

On his way back from the store, Yosuke kept nervously checking over his shoulder. He’d been picking up something for his mom, who seemed a little reluctant to go outside despite her handwaving and insistence that she was fine. That it was only old people who slipped and fell on ice. He could’ve borrowed his dad’s car, but driving on these poorly plowed roads was just as scary as walking them and at least this way he wasn’t in charge of a 2000kg death machine.

A horn blew, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. He whipped around but it was only to see Souji’s truck matching his pace just behind him. The driver waved at him through the windshield, all smiles as Yosuke flipped him off. He leaned across the bench seat and unlocked the passenger door.

“Hi,” Souji grinned as soon as Yosuke opened it. “You want a ride?”

He didn’t, not in that thing, but it was getting to the point where he couldn’t feel his fingers, so Yosuke rolled his eyes and climbed into the warmth without a word. The entire cab smelled of coffee from the Styrofoam cup sitting in the holder and as usual there was no music playing. Souji shifted gears, fishtailing as the back tires spun on the ice.

“Long time no see. What’re you doing out here?” Yosuke asked, holding his hands over the heater vents.

“I’m on my way home from work,” Souji said, and he had the dark bags under his eyes to prove it. “Covered for someone and worked a double shift.”

“Why? You that hard up for cash?” The question was half in jest, even if he didn’t think it was funny. There was something odd about Souji beyond the exhaustion. It had been tricky to pick up on, but Yosuke was starting to realize Souji only smiled that much when something was eating at him.

“I need money for a security deposit on an apartment,” Souji answered plainly, immediately confirming his suspicions.

“You’re moving out?”

“I talked to my parents the other day and I’m not going back. I don’t want to impose on Dojima anymore, so…”

“I doubt you’re imposing,” Yosuke said slowly. From what he had seen, Dojima was wild about his nephew and Souji tended to take care of most everything from cooking to cleaning to childrearing. 

Souji’s only answer was a shrug. He kept his eyes on the road, chewing on his fingernails. Yosuke rested his head against the window and they drove in a silence that seemed heavier than it should’ve been. There was more he wanted to ask, more he wanted to talk about, but this was his first time seeing Souji after Minato’s confession and now somehow things just felt weird. Knowing something so private about such a secretive person without them being aware of it, knowing Souji had lied to him, however white and small it was – instead of feeling like an upper hand like he would have thought, everything was just feeling more and more wrong.

“Are you alright?”

Yosuke lifted his head to find Souji giving him a concerned look even though he was the one with the dark circles and a wan complexion. “Yeah, just… I don’t know. Tired, I guess.”

“Mm… You and me both. It must be busy at Junes lately with Christmas coming up.”

Which was true. It wasn’t the problem but it certainly wasn’t helping. Yosuke sat up straight and stretched out his arms and legs. “Are you guys doing anything for Christmas?”

Souji shook his head. “Probably just a dinner with the three of us. Four, if Adachi shows up.”

“Yeah. Same here.” Just the three Hanamuras. Four, since Souji’s dead boyfriend showed up.

One good thing about Inaba was that it never took long to get anywhere. Yosuke sighed and ran a hand over his face as the truck pulled up to his house, but before getting out he paused with his hand on the door.

Things were weird and they had been weird for a long time. Acting normal got hard to deal with while simultaneously making his first friend in Inaba and trying not to piss off the ghost haunting him. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do – he couldn’t tell anymore – but he turned to Souji and asked, “Do you wanna get together on Christmas?”

Souji turned his head and looked out the window for a moment, chin resting on his palm. In the driver’s side mirror Yosuke could see his face reflected but it wasn’t telling him anything. Then Souji looked back at him, wearing a faint smile. “Sure. Nanako would probably like it if you came over. She’s a believer in ‘the more the merrier.’”

“Okay,” Yosuke breathed, a little thrown off by the immense relief flooding through him. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath while he waited for the answer. “Good.”

 

* * *

 

“Is this weird for you? If it’s weird, we can go.”

_“Wow. Stop doing that.”_

“What?”

_“You’re walking on eggshells.”_

Yosuke moved his cellphone to the other ear as he peered into a jewelry store’s window. Watches sparkled in a display case, reflecting the lights so brightly it almost hurt to look. “I’m just saying,” he muttered. “Up ‘til now you haven’t been all that psyched about Souji and me hanging out – which I get now that you've… explained. Sort of. So I’m just… y’know. I don’t wanna make this worse for you.”

 _“Don’t baby me. I already killed myself,”_ Minato laughed bitterly. _“What’s the worst that could happen?”_

Yosuke frowned up at him. “That’s not funny, dude.”

Minato sighed and crossed his arms, looking down the mall walkway at the crowd of shoppers moving from store to store. His gaze fell on a small group of teenagers, a pair of which were sitting on a bench hand-in-hand, resting their heads against one another’s.

 _“You’re just like Souji sometimes,”_ he muttered.

“Knowing you, that’s probably a compliment,” Yosuke said. He pointed at a watch in front. Black leather band, black face, black everything. The only thing that set the numbers and hands apart from the face was that they were of a shinier finish. “What about that one? You think he would like that one?”

_“Why’re you getting him a watch? He has his phone.”_

“He does wear a watch though, since he can’t have his phone on him at work,” Yosuke said absentmindedly. “Last time we were hanging out, he kept tapping on it and, like, putting it against his ear. I think it was dying. So I figured…”

Yosuke crouched down to get a closer look at a watch with a floral pattern on the face and Minato stared at the back of his head, feeling a frown crease his face.

“I just don’t know what else to get him,” Yosuke half-laughed. “Gifts are hard. I guess I could buy him some stupid mecha figure. He’d probably love that but I don't know if I want to feed that hobby.”

Minato closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

_“He’d like the floral watch.”_

 

* * *

 

Souji closed the bedroom door as quietly as he could before treading softly over to the table, but all his caution was for naught as soon as he stubbed his toe on the leg and cried out in pain. Sinking to the floor with tears in his eyes, either from pain or mirth, he squeezed his wounded foot and told Yosuke, “They’re completely passed out. I tried waking Dojima up to get him into bed, telling him he should at least let Adachi have the couch so he’s not sleeping on the floor, but he’s just… out of it.”

Yosuke snorted. “Let him stay on the floor. That guy’s so weird.”

“Aw, I like him,” Souji smiled gently. “He’s endearing.”

Their words were slurring under the effect of the sake Dojima had let them drink once Nanako was in bed. Yosuke let his head fall back against the seat of the couch, smiling up at Minato, who was sitting on it crosslegged. Just watching like he had been all night. But it was a surprise to see the smile returned, however begrudging and faint it was.

Souji sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on the table. “Now what? I’ve watched all the Christmas movies I can handle.”

“I dunno.”

“Hmm…”

Souji closed his eyes, leaving Yosuke free to stare at him. There was, he noticed, a freckle on one of eyelids. From the position of it, it must’ve only been visible when his eyes were closed. Yosuke looked over his shoulder at Minato’s, the one just below the corner of his mouth, and then back again, touching his own face absentmindedly. He didn’t know what he was getting at, but his brain was getting at something – or trying to as it struggled through the alcohol. Until he gave up and copied Souji, resting his head on the table as well. They stayed like that for so long that Yosuke could feel sleep coming for him.

Then Souji mumbled, “Can I tell you something?”

Immediately Yosuke sat up straight, but the sudden movement sent his head reeling. Slapping a hand to it to stop the spinning, he said, “Y-yeah, of course. Anything.”

Souji fidgeted nervously with his new watch under the table. He took a deep breath and stared somewhere off to the side, avoiding looking anywhere near Yosuke. It was rare to see him look so uncomfortable. “That person I told you about before, the one with the DVDs…”

Yosuke froze. He didn’t even have to look to know Minato was just as alert as he was.

“I lied when I said I hadn’t been with anyone before,” Souji admitted quietly. “He and I were… together for almost two years.”

 _“It was a year and eight months,”_ Minato said softly.  _“Almost.”_

“I’m sorry for lying,” Souji said, finally meeting Yosuke’s eye.

“It’s – it’s fine, dude, don’t even worry about it.”

“I’m only saying because he… In March he… passed away. So this is my first Christmas after the fact and it’s… nice. I’m glad it was nice. I was planning on spending the bare minimum with Nanako so I didn’t ruin anything for her and then just sleeping it away, but then you… It means a lot to me that you’re here. That’s all.”

Everything was swirling around in Yosuke’s head and yet at the same time he was drawing blanks. All those suicide support websites he’d visited were doing him no good at all; he couldn’t remember a thing from them.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Souji added, as if he knew exactly what was – or wasn’t – going through Yosuke’s head. “I know it’s kind of an awkward subject. I just thought you would want to know since you wanted me to talk about myself more.”

“I – I did. Do. I mean, I’m glad you told me,” Yosuke managed to spit out. He wanted to turn and check on Minato to see how he was doing, but Souji hadn’t stopped staring at him and it felt wrong doing it right then. Something about the body language it would give away. He had picked up at least that much from these last few weeks. “I can’t even imagine… It must’ve been – really terrible.”

Souji folded his arms underneath his head as he gazed up at Yosuke. He didn’t say anything.

Then something clicked. “Wait,” Yosuke said slowly. “He… It happened in March, and then you moved here in April?”

Souji nodded.

“Your parents didn’t… I don’t know… postpone their trip or something?”

Souji shook his head.

“Oh… Sorry.”

Souji smiled. “You’ve got a good heart, you know that?”

“Ah.” Yosuke averted his eyes and suddenly he wasn’t feeling so drunk anymore. Souji's blunt honesty had sobered him up quicker than anything. “Thanks…”

And with that, Souji unfolded himself and got to his feet. “Anyways… You’re spending the night, right?”

“Uh…” Yosuke managed a glimpse over his shoulder under the pretense of fidgeting with his hair. Minato was still sitting on the couch, but now with his head in his hands.

 _“It’s fine,”_ he muttered.  _“He’s glad you’re here, so… whatever.”_

“If it’s okay,” Yosuke said. Speaking to both of them, in a way.

“It’s no trouble. I’ll go get the spare futon.”

As soon as Souji was out of the room, Yosuke turned around and rested his elbows on the couch, gazing up at Minato and whispering, “Are you okay?”

It took a moment, but Minato lowered his hands and let out a small breath.  _“I'm fine.”_ _  
_

“I don’t have to spend the night if you don’t –”

_“It’s fine. I mean it. Just… maybe don’t try to kiss him again.”_

“I won’t,” Yosuke chuckled.

 

* * *

 

In order to minimize the time spent noticing the way Souji still slept curled up in a ball with an inordinate amount of pillows and blankets, Minato wandered downstairs. Dojima was still passed out on the couch, chin drooping onto his chest and arms crossed; Adachi was still on the floor where he had simply laid back from his spot at the table, one arm cast over his eyes and the other up his shirt.

When Minato passed through the sliding glass door leading into the backyard, the feeling he got as soon as he strayed too far from Yosuke began to kick in. At this distance it was negligible but still noticeable. A quiet, constant darkness at the edges of the world.

Something moved in the corner of the yard and Minato squinted, smiling when he saw it was a cat. Probably one of Souji’s strays. Just a plain shorthaired tabby with a bit of a homely face. It turned its yellow eyes on him, its tail twitching nervously, and he immediately knew what was coming next: it hissed loudly before scampering away, leaving a small trail of footprints in the snow.

Animals didn’t exactly react well to him. Aside from Yosuke, they were the only things that could see him. Dogs barked, cats hissed, and birds… It might’ve been paranoia, or maybe he just wasn’t used to the country, but there did seem to be a lot of ravens around. Especially considering it was winter. He had asked Yosuke to look it up and ravens didn't migrate, so the fact they were around at all wasn’t odd, but the sheer numbers he kept noticing were. Or it was just his imagination getting to him after years of horror movies and death metal.

After a few minutes of sitting atop the snow and trying fruitlessly to scoop up a handful of it, Minato headed back inside. As he was passing Adachi the man gave a snort and flung his arm out to the side. It passed through Minato’s shin, sending a chill up his spine.

Minato came to a halt. Fast asleep, the goofy grin Adachi had worn all through dinner was gone and his face had fallen into more casual lines. The change was immense for something so simple, but what was concerning Minato more was what he had felt from Adachi. It had taken less than a second for the hand to pass through his leg, but he recognized the feeling it had caused him. The apathy, the dissatisfaction, the loneliness – it was all familiar. But there had been something darker; an underlying fury the likes of which he’d never felt before. It was unnerving. To think it had come from the same guy who had been making puns all night.

But there was nothing to be done about it, so he continued on his way.

Upstairs in Souji’s bedroom, nothing had changed. Yosuke was still sprawled on his stomach, one leg sticking out from under his blankets while he snored gently, and Souji was still curled up in a ball. After a moment’s hesitation Minato made his way over to the latter, kneeling down beside him.

Souji slept with one hand under his head, the other reaching out and curled into a loose fist. Eyelashes trembling with whatever he was dreaming of. And there was that freckle on his lid and the eyebrows he hated so much. The slightest downward curve of his lips and the straight line of his nose.

Nine months and twenty-one days had passed since Minato took his own life. Two hundred and ninety-six days. Now he was laying down on the floor next to the futon, watching Souji’s chest rise and fall with slow, deep breaths. Something he had often done while he was alive and had trouble sleeping with the constant, droning, TV static of nothing buzzing in his head.

Souji made a small noise, inhaling deeply and stretching his long legs straight. The hand reaching out unfurled its fingers and Minato hovered his over it. Just close enough to look like they were touching, but far enough that he wouldn’t pass through. He couldn’t do that, not to Souji.

“Minato…”

He snatched his hand back and closed his eyes for a moment before looking behind him. If he hadn’t been so absorbed in Souji’s every little movement, maybe he would have noticed that the snoring had stopped long ago. Yosuke was awake and watching. Even just by the faint light of the moon coming in through a part in the curtains, the look of concern on his face was clear. 

“I’m sorry,” Yosuke said softly.

With a small sigh, Minato turned back to Souji. _“Me too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN. i wanted to say thanks?? i've literally never shared anything i've written before with anyone so i was nervous but you guys are so nice i'm losing my mind lmao


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was originally going to put all the flashbacks in a separate work in the name of consistency but consistent is one thing this story is not. so..... in case you're wondering, yes, this is two years prior lmao thnks 4 suffering through this mess.
> 
> also maybe watch out for super vague mentions of animal cruelty toward the end

“Fix your tie,” Souji’s mother hissed in his ear, and so he did.

“Stand up straight,” instructed his father under his breath, and so he did.

With so many people stuffed in one rented event hall beneath so many Christmas lights, it was stifling hot. Through some kind of familiarity with Kirijo company parties Souji had been able to endure it, but as the night grew longer and his feet sorer, it was getting more and more difficult. More than anything, it was just making him tired.

“Your parents spoke highly of you,” their boss was saying as she ended their handshake. If Souji remembered right, her name was Arisato. She was much younger than the last boss in the last city. “How are you enjoying Iwatodai so far?”

“It’s a beautiful city.”

“Your parents were telling me you’ll be transferring to Gekkoukan after the break. You’re just finishing off your first year, am I right?”

“Yes,” Souji’s mother answered for him. His father placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. Every bit the picture of proud parents. “Bit of an awkward time to move, but… it couldn’t be helped.”

It never could be. Souji felt his jaw clenching so he took a deep breath and reminded himself it was no one’s fault. His parents were just doing their best. The same speech he gave himself every time he could feel resentment bubbling under the surface. It was unbefitting, it was unkind, he was being ungrateful, so just smile.

“My nephew, Minato, is attending Gekkoukan.” Arisato glanced around and shrugged a bit helplessly. “I wanted to introduce the two of you but he seems to have run off again. He’s probably somewhere around the buffet table.”

“This is the nephew you mentioned the other day?” Souji’s father asked. A question he already knew the answer to but was asking to look more like he was involved in the conversation. To show he had been paying attention to her every word. Souji had seen him use this tactic many times with many superiors and had even caught himself using it now and then.

“Yes, my brother’s boy. My nephew moves around a lot, just like you,” Arisato added, speaking directly to Souji. “That was why I wanted to introduce you; from what your parents have said, the two of you have a lot in common.”

Souji nodded politely, feeling mind start to wander. He was desperate for an out. The bathroom excuse had been used up with the last person during a conversation that used so many corporate words he couldn’t follow. If he used it again, his parents would know. Then he’d get to feel those icy glares and the sting of them being ‘not angry, just disappointed’ that he wasn’t showing greater interest in the workforce he would one day be entering.

But Souji had shown all the interest he could muster for the evening, so he excused himself as politely as he could, feeling his parents eyes on his back as he walked away. Whether or not he had to actually go, he wove his way through the people and the tables, following the now familiar route to the bathroom.

It wasn’t that he hated this kind of thing. He didn’t really feel any particular way about it, truth be told. He understood that his parents liked him to come because it made a good impression on their superiors and so he did, because he owed them that much at least. The conversations were boring but the food was always decent. It was all just… average. If he ever did feel anything about these parties, good or bad, he’d long since gotten used to it.

Souji pushed open the door to the bathroom. This time it wasn’t empty. Sitting on the floor against the opposite wall was a boy his age, all his attention on a handheld video game. Beneath the gentle piano floating down from a speaker in the ceiling was the harsher static of whatever music was leaking from the guy’s headphones.

As Souji stood at one of the sinks, washing his hands purely for something to do, he watched the boy through the mirror and wondered if that was Minato. From what he’d seen there hadn’t been anyone else their age at the party. It had to be him. If so, Souji’s parents would probably want him to introduce himself. Their son and their boss’s nephew being friends would probably be a boon for them. Somehow. For as long as they were in Iwatodai, at least.

And that thought alone was enough to deter him. It was pointless. He’d do it if he had to, but otherwise…

Souji’s eyes kept flicking back to Minato as he dried his hands and stalled, grooming himself unnecessarily in front of the mirror. Underneath Minato’s thick and wavy hair, he had a nice face. It was a bit of a shame that it was pointless after all, but the same went for a bunch of other people he’d met along the way. People he made an effort not to get attached to and always left behind.

Perhaps feeling the gaze on him, Minato looked up as Souji was tightening his tie and their eyes met in the mirror. Souji’s heart skipped a beat nervously but he still managed a casual smile. Then he turned and left without a word.

 

* * *

 

“January’s kind of an odd time to join a club. Not many are accepting new members right now, least of all the basketball club.” Toriumi sat back in her chair and looked down at a piece of paper on her desk. “The swim team is and volleyball is, but they’re… well. If you don’t want to wait until next year, those are your options.”

There was no reason not to, so Souji had taken the volleyball application form. It was either that or the swim team and Souji couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in anything deeper than a bathtub. There was always the option of not joining any clubs but they kept him busy and out of the otherwise empty apartment. It wasn’t like he had any great attachment to basketball anyway. He’d just played a bit toward the end of middle school and at the high school he’d been attending before transferring here.

When he reached the gym door and reached out to push it open, someone beat him to it from the other side and then Souji was looking down at a boy half a head shorter than him.

“Sorry,” Souji said automatically, stepping out of the way. He continued on, leaving Souji to stare into the gymnasium. Which was empty. There were no teams in there, volleyball or otherwise. “Uh – Excuse me?”

The guy stopped just before reaching the exit and turned around when Souji called, waiting wordlessly for him to continue. Now that Souji was properly looking, there was something familiar about him.

“The volleyball team,” Souji started, “are they…?”

“They left.”

“Oh. Are… they coming back?”

The guy stared at him with dark-circled eyes and that was when it finally clicked. The wavy hair had been flatironed straight but the face and the apparently permanent look of ennui were the same.

“You’re the new member,” the boy realized. When Souji nodded he scratched the back of his head. “They’re all gone. Left early.”

“Are you Arisato Minato?”

The boy frowned and lowered his hand slowly. “What? Yeah…?”

“I’m Seta Souji.”

“The guy my aunt was talking about,” Minato said uncertainly. “You were at the Christmas party.”

“Yeah.”

During a long and awkward pause, Minato cracked his knuckles, casting his eyes off nervously to the side. He didn’t seem all that keen on eye contact. “Well… nice to meet you,” he said. “But still, the volleyball team crapped out on practice today, so… you may as well head home.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for the main building, leaving Souji staring after him.

 

* * *

 

“You’re pretty good,” Kaz said, sounding impressed. “Guess that’s what they call natural talent, huh? You said you’ve never played volleyball before.”

“Yeah. Just basketball.”

The team’s libero, stretching his arm across his chest, shrugged and said, “They’re kind of similar.”

“They’re not similar at all,” Kaz snapped.

They continued to bicker back and forth while Souji massaged his stinging palm, and let his attention wander across the gym. The rest of the team were still practicing, though in between extended conversations. It was a far different atmosphere than his old basketball team, a team that had been built entirely of people like Kaz, but Souji was just be happy to be there at all. It was better than sitting at home studying.

The only one who wasn’t practicing was Minato. He was lying across the bottom bench of the bleachers on his stomach, arms and one leg dangling toward the ground. Sleeping again. Souji watched as the team manager approached him and struggled to tug the towel he was using as a pillow out from under his head. When she succeeded his head hit the bench with a dull _thunk_ that echoed all the way over to Souji, but still Minato didn’t move.

They hadn’t spoken much since Souji joined, but Minato’s position as setter and his as middle blocker meant they had to work together a lot – on the off chance Minato wasn’t skipping practice or sleeping in the corner. Souji wasn’t entirely sure about what to think of him, but he could still see what Minato was doing, the way he kept people at bay. And he wondered if everyone who moved a lot was like the two of them.

“Minato!” Kaz called, so loud and close to his ear that Souji flinched. Minato stirred, turning his head to look over. Maybe he hadn’t actually been asleep after all. “Come set for us!”

“No.”

“Dude…”

“Get Souji to ask him,” the libero laughed. “I’ve never seen anyone say no to Souji.”

 

* * *

 

As he wasted time before his shift at Chagall started, Minato sat on the bench by the fountain and watched people passing by. He couldn’t hear a thing over the music from his MP3 player but he didn’t need to. There was nothing of importance.

A group of Gekkoukan students stood in front of the arcade as one of them attempted the crane game. Minato watched absentmindedly, a little surprised when their numbers divided and Souji stepped out from the middle. Cellphone pressed to one ear, finger plugging the other. He stopped several paces away from the group, hunching his shoulders and closing his eyes as he focused on whatever was on the other end of the line. Out of curiosity – or pure nosiness – Minato paused his music.

“I know, Dad,” Souji was saying. “I’m sorry. I was going to when I got home – No, you’re right. I’m sorry. Yeah… I’ll head home right now… Okay. Bye.”

After hanging up he closed his eyes and sighed into his hand – until he looked up and noticed Minato was watching. Immediately any signs of weariness disappeared and Souji flashed him a friendly smile. Minato just stared back. Souji gave him a small wave of acknowledgment before turning on his heel and heading back to his friends where he spoke to them for a moment. They all looked disappointed, calling out to him as he walked backwards and shrugged his shoulders, looking so apologetic there was no way it wasn’t fake.

Minato checked the time on his phone and got to his feet. It was time for his shift.

 

* * *

 

“Minato,” came Souji’s voice, and Minato looked up from the game he was playing to find him sitting in the desk in front of him. Resting his chin on his palm and wearing a smile that was faint enough to barely look like a smile. “We’re in each other’s class this year.”

“Looks that way.”

“Will you be at volleyball today?”

Minato returned his attention back to his game, only to find he had died. “No. Too tired.”

“You should come; I need someone to toss for me.”

“Then ask Kaz.”

“He’s got physical therapy today.”

“Then go back to basketball.”

Souji sighed dramatically and turned back around in his seat.

 

* * *

 

“Minato! What are you buying?”

Standing in line in the cafeteria, Minato stared at Souji. “Food.”

“Hilarious. Do you want to eat lunch on the roof with me?”

“Why?”

Souji shrugged.

“…Fine.”

 

* * *

 

“Minato.”

“Yeah.”

“You fell asleep in class. Do you want my notes?”

“Uh… Okay. Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

“Minato, you’re not stretching properly.”

“It’s good enough.”

“Do you want help?”

Minato looked around. The rest of the team, the few that had shown up, where all stretching in pairs and talking and laughing. It left just Minato and Souji sitting off to the side, half-heartedly reaching for their toes and adjusting their knee pads respectively. The answer on the tip of his tongue was a flat and outright no but that seemed more trouble than it was worth.

“Fine,” Minato sighed, regretting it as soon as Souji moved to kneel in front of him. “Wait – what’re you doing?”

“It’s how we used to stretch in my last school. Have you not done it before? Sit with the bottoms of your feet together, I’ll hold down your knees, and then you try to push them up.”

“Uh…”

“Come on. Drills will be starting soon.”

Not soon enough, as far as Minato was concerned. Sitting with Souji’s hands on his knees put their faces awkwardly close and suddenly he was wildly uncomfortable, turning his head so his hair blocked Souji from view. Thankfully the stretches that came after weren’t as bad – until Souji had him lie on his back with a leg resting on his shoulder.

With an arm cast over his eyes so he didn’t have to see Souji leaning over him, Minato asked, “Am I doing you next? I mean – the stretching. Helping you stretch. You – your legs.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Minato nearly whispered, praying bent legs were enough to hide anything that might give him away.

 

* * *

 

“Minato, are you gonna come watch the drama club’s play? I make a good Dorian Gray.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

“Minato!”

He turned around to see Souji running down the road after him, backpack stuffed full of books thumping a rhythm against his back.

“I was just talking to Kaz,” he panted as soon as he caught up. “You quit the team? Why?”

“Just lost interest in it, I guess,” Minato answered simply, cracking his knuckles and glancing off to the side. “I dunno.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened. It’s just me.”

Souji stared down at him, frowning sadly. “I’m going to miss having you there.”

Minato’s chest gave a painful thump but he just shrugged. “You’ll live.”

 

* * *

 

“Minato.”

“Hi.”

“Hi. What’re you listening to?”

As Souji sat down beside him on the school’s rooftop Minato held up his MP3 player so he could see the screen, but Souji just plucked one of the headphones off his ear and put it on his own. He leaned back against the metal fence with a tiny sigh and closed his eyes. Minato stared at him for a moment, at the way the afternoon sun shone on his silver hair, and noticed something for the first time: there was a freckle on his left lid. And he absentmindedly flicked his tongue out at the one he knew was by the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve never really listened to something like this before,” Souji said, eyes still closed, and Minato averted his eyes like he’d been caught. “I always just listen to whatever my friends at the time are listening to.”

“’At the time?’” Minato inquired quietly.

“I move a lot.”

“Oh.”

“You do too, don’t you? Your aunt told me as much when I met her at the Christmas party.”

“Yeah.” There was a long pause and then Minato was talking without meaning to. “I kind of rotate between my aunts. One had a kid and needed the spare room, then the other went back to school and couldn’t afford to keep me… And sometimes I stay with members from my mom’s side of the family. Now I’m here.”

There was this thing Souji did where he made it so easy to start blurting out embarrassing things. It made you want to answer any questions he had – and he always had a lot of them. The calm look always on his face, his laidback and openminded atmosphere, and the way he listened as if you talking about what you had for breakfast was the most interesting thing in the world. Before you knew it you were halfway through talking about that dog you owned when you were seven before you realized you’d fallen for his tricks again. It was a good thing he was a kind person; it was a power that could’ve been used for evil in the wrong hands.

“Do you like it here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really care either way. It’s kind of bizarre being back here, but…”

“You lived here before?”

“Mhm.” Minato hesitated, drawing his knees closer to his chest and fidgeting with a small pebble on the ground. “Last time I lived here, my parents died in a car crash. That’s why I…”

It wasn’t that talking about it bothered him but people always got weird about it, even if he told them he didn’t care. That somehow made it worse, like they thought he was just putting on a brave face. They got awkward, then _he_ got awkward because he didn’t understand what they were getting awkward about. So it was just easier to stay quiet about it.

But Souji just opened his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, gazing at Minato with some kind of calm look he couldn’t make sense of.

“Oh,” he said, and that was all he said.

It wasn’t the ‘oh’ that was always followed with an ‘I’m so sorry’ and looks full of pity. It was just an ‘oh.’

“Ten years is a long time,” he continued placidly. “Has either Iwatodai or the Island changed much?”

Minato just shook his head, still reeling a little. For once he’d put forth something private and just like that it was rejected. Not even rejected – ignored. He should’ve been happy that someone had finally reacted how he told himself he always wanted. It seemed excessively dramatic and very unlike him to be thrown so off-balance.

After several of the longest minutes of his life, the bell rang and lunch ended. As they got to their feet Souji handed him back the headphone and said, “I think that was the most I’ve ever heard you talk. You should do it more often; you’ve got a nice voice.”

And he was smiling that smile, the one that was barely a smile. And suddenly Minato’s hands were shaking. Feeling sick to his stomach, he snatched the headphone out of Souji’s hand and turned on his heel, heading for the door without waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

“Minato.”

The shower of rain over him suddenly stopped and whatever pale light the sun had been struggling to shine was blocked out. Something touched his arm and Minato looked around to see Souji smiling down at him, uncomfortably close and completely dry, holding a black umbrella over both of them.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

“I never get sick,” Minato said, continuing to walk without waiting for him. He pushed his sopping bangs out of his face before cracking his knuckles and shoving his shaking hands in his pockets.

“Don’t jinx yourself.”

Minato snorted. Everything in him was suddenly on edge and hyperaware of Souji’s slightest movements. It was somehow made even worse by seeing their reflection in a store window and noticing the umbrella had stupid cat ears sewn onto it. He tore his eyes away before he had a chance to notice even worse things, like the difference in their height or how long Souji’s legs were.

“Isn’t your apartment the other way?”

“Yes, but I’m picking something up for dinner.”

“Huh.”

“You should come with me,” Souji smiled. “My parents are at work. I’ll make you something nice. An apology for the other day.”

They stopped at a red light and Minato stared down at the ground, tapping his toes in a small puddle and watching the ripples lap at the concrete. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought I might’ve offended you.” Souji shifted his weight a little and Minato felt him moving against his arm. “I was a little insensitive after your mentioned your parents. I didn’t think you were the type for sympathy but maybe I was wrong? If so, I’m sorry. I’m not very good at socializing,” Souji laughed.

“Don’t do that,” Minato mumbled, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead.

“What?”

“Just – don’t.” He lowered his hand and turned to face Souji. “I don’t – I don’t get it. What is this? What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?” Still with that composed look on his face. If he was at all surprised, it didn’t show. Nothing ever did. He was always the one with the upper hand. Taking everything in and giving nothing back. It wasn’t fair.

“You’re always – following me around and… being nice to me. What do you want? Is this a sex thing?”

Souji blinked. “A what?”

“Is that what you want? It’s fine if it is.”

“That’s – It’s not –”

For the first time since they’d met, Souji was looking embarrassed. It was that more than anything that told Minato he’d hit the nail on the head. There was no way that wasn’t a look of guilt. The crosswalk light turned but neither moved. With the weather being as it was, there were so few people on the streets. Just them and the occasional car driving by.

“If that’s all you want you didn’t have to fake being so nice,” Minato said. Already his anxiety was starting to wane. This was simple. Sex was simple. He’d done it before because it let him pretend that he cared, that the other person cared, that he was a normal person capable of an emotional connection. It was simple. And that look on Souji’s face was so cute Minato felt himself beginning to smile. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Do you want to?”

“No! I mean… That’s not what I…” There was a blush on Souji’s cheeks as he spoke so softly it was almost drowned out by a passing transport. “Is that really what you think of me? That I would do that?”

“It’s not a bad thing. Or – what, are you telling me I’m misreading this?” Minato laughed, disgusted by the wavering in his voice. And just like that, the panic was creeping back up on him. “The – the stretching thing in volleyball and you’re always – standing close and smiling. And now you’re inviting me to your place? If that’s not it then I don’t get it.”

Souji tilted his head, rubbing his neck and jaw. For once he was the one having trouble meeting Minato’s eyes. Still blushing, he said, “I just… like being around you. I like _you_.”

Minato froze.

As quickly as it left, the anxiety was rushing back stronger than before. His breaths started coming in short bursts and the gentle falling of rain was distorting, turning into something hazy and ugly. A couple girls sharing an umbrella passed by wearing Gekkoukan uniforms and talking loudly. A sharp and sudden reminder of the world still existing around them, of time ticking on as if the twisting in Minato’s gut meant nothing.

When it became clear Minato was unable to speak, Souji rubbed his nose in embarrassment and told him, “I was… planning on doing this somewhere nicer, but… Look, you’re relaxing to be around, which might sound weird but it’s… something I really appreciate. And I feel like we both know what the other has gone through, moving a lot. I usually don’t… I try not to get involved with people, but… I guess I messed up.”

Souji’s voice trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, lowering his eyes to the ground just past Minato and wearing another one of his composed, unreadable expressions. Minato pressed his hands to his face. They smelled of rainwater and skin when he took a deep breath in.

One thing Minato was not was good with words. He couldn’t think to say how Souji made him feel other than terrified. It was awful to have someone push and push and strip away the layers until you were raw and exposed to the elements. The vulnerability hurt and even if they offered shelter from the storm, it would hurt all the more when they inevitably left.

Still staring at the ground, Souji fidgeted nervously, readjusting his grip on the umbrella. “Do you care about me at all? Even just as a friend. I’ll… I’ll take what I can get,” he laughed nervously.

“I don’t know,” Minato nearly whispered. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing his fringe back and off his face, holding it there for a moment before letting it fall again.  “It’s – it’s not that simple. I never know how to act around you. I don’t get you, I can’t relate to any of it. I just… I hate this feeling, it’s – whenever I’m around you, I just…”

Souji’s face went oddly blank; it went beyond the usual calm and ventured into something unsettling. Instead of being just hard to read, it was completely void of everything.

“Enough,” he said, “I get it. I’ll leave you alone.”

Something started hurting in Minato’s chest, like his heart was trying to stop itself. Every erratic beat felt like an effort. Wide and unblinking, his eyes began to burn.

“No! That’s not what I’m saying –”

“Well, it’s what I’m saying,” Souji said coldly. “Just forget about it, I made a stupid fucking mistake. One of us is going to end up moving eventually anyway, so… It’s better to end it now, right?” He took a step back, taking the umbrella with him, and Minato was suddenly being doused in cold rain again. “I’m gonna go. Get home quick or you’ll catch a cold.”

 

* * *

 

Minato stared at a diagram of the human reproduction system while a beautiful woman asked if he’d ever heard about death by a thousand cuts. Not the old form of torture, she said, but the concept.

There were torn tissues in his lap. Some damp with tears, some torn to shreds by his trembling fingers. Not that he was sad, just that he was crying. People always acted like the two came hand-in-hand. All it was was just some kind of response his body still had to stress. Hanging on by the fingernails to some semblance of normalcy and acting like it still felt emotions the way it was supposed to.

Like when he was a child. It got harder as time passed and lost all meaning, swallowing the memories by inches, but he could definitely remember that he used to get sad and cry when he was little. It was kind of funny but it was like he used it all up when his parents died. Now he was just an empty shell.

An empty shell sitting in the doctor’s office while listening to stories about frogs getting boiled alive.

“It’s called creeping normality,” she said. Sitting with her legs crossed and her hands laced together around her knee, while his bounced nervously up and down on the ball of his foot. “If you throw a frog into boiling water it’ll hop out, but if you heat up the water while it’s in there it won’t notice. It’ll stay there until it’s dead. Sometimes your environment or your situation changes and it’s not until you look back that you notice. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

Minato nodded, his leg bouncing even faster. He blinked and a single tear fell onto his hand, so he scrubbed it off harshly against his jeans.

“Many people go for years without recognizing that they have depression.” The doctor spoke softly and carefully as if worried too much volume might shatter him. “It’s such a gradual change. You were very lucky you have such an astute aunt that caught it for you.

“I’m going to prescribe you a medication I’ve had a lot of success with,” she said, turning to her desk and writing on a clipboard. “We’ll start you out with a low dose and then if it goes well we’ll increase the dosage and go from there. How do you feel about that?”

Minato shrugged. “Fine.”

“Alright. Good. You’re going to start off taking half a pill, once a day every day. Morning or night, it doesn’t matter, just as long as it’s at the same time every day. And take it with food. Some people have issues with nausea otherwise.”

Minato nodded, staring down at his hands as they continued to shred the tissues. When she handed him the prescription, the doctor met his eyes with a kind, gentle look.

“You’re still so young,” she told him. “It’ll be okay. Many people with depression go on to live good, fulfilling lives. And you’ll be one of them.”


	6. Chapter 6

“So it’s regret, right? The thing holding you back?”

It was the same scene as too many other nights: Yosuke in bed, with Minato sitting crosslegged at the foot of it. It had long since become some kind of routine. This was just how their nights were now. The old samurai movie playing on TV threw Minato’s face into shadow as he looked over his shoulder. All darkness and highlights as men with swords fought to the death behind him.

Yosuke rubbed his eye and inhaled a long, deep breath through his nose. Half asleep and blinking through his lashes, he mumbled, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Just parroting lines from the suicide helplines, but he couldn’t think of what to say, so someone else’s words would have to do. “I wanna help.”

Minato stared at him for a moment. Whatever face he was making was lost in the darkness. In the background some guy was giving some speech about the honour in dying protecting what you love, and he wondered if Minato was hearing it.

_“It’s pointless.”_

“No it’s not,” Yosuke said automatically, not really knowing what he was arguing about.

Minato shook his head and turned around to face him properly. It was faint, but there was a trace of a smile on his face.

_“I know how this ends. I’ve known it from the beginning. And I bet you have too.”_

Despite how tired and close to sleep he’d been Yosuke sat up and pushed aside his blankets. Wherever this conversation was going, it wasn’t going to be one that should be had in the comfort of a warm bed.

 _“It’s pointless to talk about it,”_ Minato mumbled.

Sitting that close in the low light, the dark circles under Minato’s eyes were more pronounced than ever, and not for the first time Yosuke wondered if he was appearing in the image of himself just before his death. If that was the outfit he’d died in when he’d – however it had happened. He hadn’t the heart to ask.

“It might make you feel better,” Yosuke tried with a small shrug.

It was something he’d learned from Souji without really realizing it. No, nothing had changed, but just talking about things had helped him kind of work a few things out. Giving voice to them almost helped you to see things from a different perspective. It was far different than rehashing things over and over inside your head. You wouldn’t think it made a difference, but the difference was vast.

“C’mon, just try. I’m here and I wanna help. What harm can it do?”

Minato wore a smirk as he perched his chin on his hand and sighed harshly through his nose, his expression looking torn somewhere between irritation and amusement. _“What do you think it is holding me back?”_

“Don’t avoid the question.”

_“I’m not. I’ll answer it. I just wanna… know what I come off like to you.”_

Yosuke turned his head and stared around his room at his shelves of CDs and dirty clothes strewn across the floor. The low light from the TV coloured everything in greyscale and heavy shadows.

“Uh… I was reading these suicide forums,” he started, staring intently at a rolled-up sock, “and uh… It seemed like everyone who survived trying to kill themselves was thankful they made it. But it’s different for you: you’re around to regret it, but you didn’t actually… survive. I think you’re bitter and angry and…”

Minato kept staring at him; he could see it out of the corner of his eye, even if he couldn’t bring himself to look back. Still he kept staring at that stupid sock.

“You probably miss Souji a lot, too. It’s probably really hard being around him all the time, but I think you know that it’s not a coincidence that you’re here in Inaba.”

_“And you had that in mind every time you hung out with him, huh?”_

Yosuke finally looked at him to find that sardonic smirk still on his face. He let out a deep breath. “Man… I’m not gonna act like it was completely out of the goodness of my heart, but what else was I supposed to do? It’s been obvious from the beginning that he’s got something to do with why you’re stuck here.”

 _“I know,”_ Minato mumbled. _“I’m just giving you shit. Sorry.”_

“Hmph. So am I right?”

 _“I think there’s more to it, but… yeah,”_ Minato sighed. He finally looked away from Yosuke and sat back on his hands, stretching his legs out. They rested on either side of Yosuke; now he had to be careful or he’d be putting a hand through Minato’s calve. _“It’s pretty predictable, huh? I never was very imaginative.”_

“I dunno. I think it’s a pretty human reaction,” Yosuke said fairly, folding his hands in his lap. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

_“You sound like a therapist.”_

“If I was, this would’ve been over a long time ago.”

Minato smiled at him and Yosuke found himself returning it, the same time as a kind of weight settled in his chest. Whether it was the whole situation or just how sad and forced Minato’s smile looked, the small bits of light weren’t enough to brighten the darkness.

 _“It is hard being around him,”_ Minato admitted softly, staring at one of the posters on his wall. Yosuke glanced over his shoulder and noticed it was one of a gravure idol. Which was… suddenly very embarrassing and inappropriate. _“It sucks seeing him like this. He’s faking it; I can tell. I was so convinced he’d get over me in no time, but I just… messed him up. It’s all my fault.”_

“Dude, he’s just grieving, he’ll get over it.” Yosuke blinked as his words sunk in. “I mean – that sounded… I’m just saying it’s – it’s a long process, and… I mean, from the sounds of it his parents didn’t help, so for months it was just his uncle and his cousin and – and I guess whatever other patients he kept talking to at the hospital… You know what I mean? He’s been alone, but he’s not anymore.”

 _“Because I left him alone,”_ Minato said. He folded his legs again and crossed his arms. _“But you’re gonna fix everything, right?”_

“Well… I mean, I’m trying.”

Minato turned his head away. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

Yosuke sighed. “Look… That girl I told you about before, the one I dated in high school? We weren’t even close but it still sucked seeing her with some other guy after we broke up. So I can’t even – imagine what you’re going through, seeing Souji with some guy you hate but I’m telling you that you’re stressing over nothing. I – I teased you about it in the beginning, but… I know that Souji’s never gonna like me. So… y’know, don’t worry. I’m just trying to be a good friend. That’s all.”

_“You think I hate you?”_

“Uh… Don’t you?”

There was a brief pause and then Minato shook his head. It was small at first – barely a single jerk. And then it was more and his mouth was pulling tight and his brow furrowing.

 _“I wish I did,”_ he muttered, and his voice was oddly choked. _“I don’t at all, and it really sucks. I want to hate you so bad.”_

For some reason, Yosuke laughed. “Why?”

“ _You’re so – so **fickle**. You barely even thought about your mom’s surgery as soon as you met Souji, and –”_

“She’s – she’s fine,” Yosuke spat nervously. “What was I supposed to do, mope around about it forever? Look where that got you.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he felt a pang of guilt. Minato lowered his head.

_“I know. I know that, but… I kept telling myself that it meant you’re just going to abandon him when the attention he gives you loses its novelty. But now I – I can tell you really care about him and I fucking hate it.”_

It hit Yosuke like a punch to the gut for two reasons.

One: because Minato was right about him, in a way. It had sat in the back of Yosuke’s mind where he tried to ignore it, but being told so bluntly made it inescapable. He wasn’t about to abandon Souji over it, but it was still a fact that these past few weeks it had been nice just to have someone around to make him feel like he mattered at all, and that maybe being stuck in this backwater town wasn’t the end of the world.

Two: because something was going terribly, terribly wrong. As he spoke, Minato’s voice had wavered in a way he’d never heard from him. Now his shoulders were shaking and his hand gripped his arm so tight it looked painful. He bounced his foot restlessly, hitting it against the bottom of his opposite knee.

 _“It’s not like I want him to be alone but I… I just want him back,”_ Minato muttered, and his voice cracked. _“I loved him – love him? I –”_

The bedside table slammed back into the wall, leaving a long dent in the plaster. Yosuke reflexively reached over and stopped the lamp from falling to the floor.

_“He was… he was all I had. I was nothing without him and I just… gave that up. I hate seeing him like this. I hate – I hate everything about this. I hate that I did it to myself and now the only thing left for me to do is roll over and accept it. I know how this ends and I **hate** it.”_

Head bowed and shoulders trembling, Minato wiped his eyes on the back of his hands.

 _“So tell me how to fix it!”_ A stack of magazines piled atop the dresser fell to the floor. Tears dripped from his chin, dotting the chest of his shirt. _“That’s what you’re here for, right? This is your big, special destiny.”_

So often did Yosuke stick his foot in his mouth, but more and more it seemed he was at a complete loss for words. All he could do was stare. He was just as lost as they were with no answers to any of the big and important questions. As much as he had wanted it to be so, he wasn’t anything special. There _was_ no destiny and to think there ever had been was just some childish delusion. For all they knew, he was chosen at random out of some unfortunate cosmic lottery.

Life and death were bigger than he’d ever thought. They were everywhere in the movies he watched and the music he listened to so he thought he knew them, but watching from the outside looking in was nothing. Life and death were all-consuming and terrifying and he wasn’t ready to deal with this. The burden was heavier than anything he could have been prepared for.

As he watched Minato’s attempts at stifling his sobs, he reached a hand out to place it on his shoulder – not really sure why, but that was just what you did when someone was crying, right? But Minato jerked away, terror written clear across his face, and the lamp was shoved off the bedside table where the bulb shattered on the floor, too quick for even Yosuke’s reflexes.

“Sorry,” Yosuke mumbled, letting his hand fall back into his lap. “I forgot that – I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

Minato just sniffed loudly, still trying to stem the constant flow of tears.

“Yosuke!” His mother was calling him from downstairs, so he got up and crossed the room to his door. When he stuck his head into the hall and called back, she yelled up, “Are you okay? What’re you doing up there? You’re making a lot of noise.”

Yosuke glanced back at Minato’s shaking form for a moment. “Nothing, Mom. Sorry.”

With Minato’s accusations of ignoring her heavy in his mind, he closed the door before hearing her response. He walked back over to the bed where he just kind of hovered awkwardly by its side. Minato sniffed again and kept his head lowered, refusing to look at him.

_“If you really want to help, there’s something I want you to steal for me.”_

 

* * *

 

As quickly as it had come the snow was beginning to melt, leaving everything glistening with water. It reflected the morning sun so brightly, distorting everything and searing away the small details until Souji was left blinking through puffy eyes, clutching a can of coffee like it was an anchor to reality.

The sun was beating down, warming the top of his head and the shoulders of his dark coat despite the frigid, dry air that stung his nose. The landlord was late for their meeting but it wasn’t so bad. This was the kind of weather he preferred over anything too hot, so he leaned against his truck instead of sitting inside as he waited.

The apartment complex in front of him was old and just two storeys tall. It had its own kind of small town charm, but he couldn’t help feeling the bass he could hear coming from one of the apartments was a bad sign. Just as he started wondering if he was really about to start calling this place home, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

>wanna go 2 th shrine 4 new yrs tomrrow???

It was Yosuke. It was always Yosuke. Souji read and reread the message over and over again, and he wondered why. And he wondered if this was how Minato had felt when they first started hanging out.

 

* * *

 

_“Are you going to get it for me?”_

Minato sat on Yosuke’s bed with a hand over his eyes while Yosuke changed. Spending all their time together wasn’t enough to make Yosuke comfortable with casual nudity in front of him.

“I don’t get how it’ll help,” Yosuke said, hopping on one leg as he struggled to slide his jeans on. “The point of all this is to help you two move on, right? There’s no way it’s gonna help.”

_“It’s worth a shot.”_

“I doubt it…” Yosuke pulled a shirt over his head and stared at himself in the mirror for a second before taking it off and rooting through the drawer for another.

_“Look, I know what I have to do – better than you do, I’m sure. But he kept it after all this time, and… I don’t know. I just need to see.”_

“Yeah, that is literally the opposite of what you need to do.”

What Minato needed to do was move on. That had been the deal from the beginning. There was no way this plan was going to help – but it was a plan nonetheless, which was more than Yosuke had come up with. He knew he was going to go through with it because moving – forwards or backwards – was better than staying stagnant. It had to be, right?

Yosuke sighed as he put on another shirt. He stood in front of the mirror, turning so he could get a look at himself from different angles, but then just fidgeted nervously. Smoothing nonexistent wrinkles and tugging on his hair.

_“You look fine, don’t worry.”_

He looked over his shoulder to find Minato had lowered his hand and was sitting with his arms around his knees, looking as innocently detached as ever. His heart stopped. “H-hey, I didn’t say you could –! I could’ve been… Do you always look when I tell you not to?”

Minato just shrugged.

A blush creeped across Yosuke’s face like he was some schoolgirl and his stomach gave an odd lurch. “Dude, what the hell? That’s – that’s so creepy, don’t _do_ that!”

 _“Grow up,”_ Minato laughed, and Yosuke threw a shirt at him that passed right through his face.

 

* * *

 

Souji and Yosuke were sitting on a bench along the shrine’s pathway, sharing an order of takoyaki while Yosuke described something that had happened at work. Talking with his hands but then getting self-conscious about talking with his hands, so he crossed his arms and tried to keep them pressed against his ribs. It never worked for long.

Minato watched them over his shoulder for a moment and then turned back to watching the kids by the trees, running around screaming with sparklers. Even if they couldn’t see him there was something daunting about being in their presence. He wasn’t very good with kids. Being an only child, he’d never been around them much.

If his mother and father had made it, then maybe he would’ve had a little sister or something.

If he hadn’t killed himself, maybe he and Souji would’ve gone on to adopt.

If, if, if.

Midnight was drawing near. Somewhere near the shrine started a ripple of excitement, spreading through the crowd until it reached Yosuke and Souji. They got to their feet and hurried towards it, leaving Minato gazing after them. That feeling started again, the one he got when he got too far away from Yosuke. But he let it. It was fine. Besides, if he went into the crowd chances were he’d phase through a bunch of people and that wasn’t appealing at all.

“Ten!”

_“Hi.”_

Minato looked over his shoulder. There was a boy looking up at him.

“Nine!”

 _“Hi yourself,”_ Minato said, crouching before him.

“Eight!”

_“You can’t run forever.”_

“Seven!”

Minato stared at him. It was like looking at a younger version of himself, but with deliberate mistakes. Shorter hair, a freckle in the wrong spot…

“Six!”

The boy reached out and his small fingers closed around Minato’s wrist. Soft and gentle but deathly cold. The first physical contact he’d had since waking up like this.

“Five!”

 _“I need more time,”_ Minato said, watching the boy turn his hand palm-up and start tracing the life line. Even then he recognized the irony of his own words.

“Four!”

 _“It’s okay,”_ the boy told him. _“She’s patient and kind. Death will wait for you.”_

“Three!”

_“Especially since you were in such a rush to meet her.”_

“Two!”

Minato looked up from their hands and met the boy’s eyes. And the boy smiled kindly.

“One!”

 

* * *

 

“I hate this,” Yosuke hissed. “I _hate_ this. Just – where is it? Let’s get this over with.”

After spending the night of New Year’s at Souji’s place, Yosuke and Minato stood in the middle of his bedroom. They only had until Souji returned from starting the truck so it could heat up. Minato pointed to the second drawer of the dresser and Yosuke quickly slid it open.

_“Left corner.”_

The day after Christmas, when the sun first started to rise and the other two were long since passed out, Minato had taken advantage of being unseen in Souji’s room and combed over every detail, comparing it to the room he’d had back in Iwatodai to see what had changed. The drawer had been left open after Souji got Yosuke something to wear to bed, and that was where Minato had seen it.

“This?” Yosuke held up a high-end camera and when Minato nodded, he stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket. “I really hate this. How do you even know one of your memory cards are still in it?”

_“I don’t. But what would be the point of keeping just the camera?”_

“I guess,” Yosuke sighed. It had been his last hope. “I _really, really_ hate this.”

 

* * *

 

“Yosuke are you listening?”

“Yeah,” he lied. He was watching Minato stand at the foot of the stairs. Hands in his pockets and that uninterested look on his face, but there was no doubt he was eager to get upstairs and start looking through the pictures.

“I know you said you wanted to take a year off to figure things out and that’s fine,” his father told him, tapping a finger against the kitchen counter. “I did the same thing when I was your age. But only for a year. It’s already January. How long are you going to wait? Have you given any thought to your future at all?”

“Yeah,” he lied. He shuffled his feet. “No? I don’t know. I’m just – I’ll figure it out, okay?”

“You can’t keep avoiding this.”

Minato tilted his head.

“I know,” Yosuke muttered, finally looking away from him. “I got this. It’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

Yosuke took his place on the bed beside Minato and turned the camera on. To get a better look at the screen, Minato sat so close that he was in constant danger of phasing through, but both of them made the effort to keep just those few centimetres between every part of them. When Yosuke opened the camera’s gallery, Minato made a small noise of recognition.

 _“I think I know which memory card this is,”_ he said softly.

The first few pictures were just of random city streets. Iwatodai, most likely. Some huge bridge. People wandering between booths at a flea market and a few of his own feet as he walked, wearing the same boots he was now, though marginally less cracked and aged. Then there were several of his hand petting a white shiba inu, which was so uncharacteristic of Minato that Yosuke found himself laughing.

“Souji sends me pictures of cats and dogs all the time,” he said. “I wouldn’t’ve expected it from you though.”

 _“I loved that dog,”_ Minato smiled. _“He lived at the shrine by my aunt’s house.”_

Next were pictures in a gym taken at a low angle, like Minato had been sitting on the floor when he took them. They were of a volleyball team, and Yosuke immediately recognized the silver hair of one of the players in the front row.

“I thought Souji played basketball?”

_“He did, ‘til he transferred to Gekkou…”_

Minato’s voice trailed away when Yosuke pressed the next button and the camera showed a picture of Souji in his team uniform. Beaming wider than Yosuke had ever seen, throwing up a peace sign with one hand and holding a volleyball against his hip with the other. In the corner was Minato’s hand, holding up a half-empty bubble tea like he was toasting something.

“Were you ever into sports? I can’t imagine it.”

_“Heh. I was on the volleyball team when Souji joined. I ended up quitting but… I still went to all their games and stuff. I guess I missed it, but uh… I was diagnosed with depression at the beginning of my second year. I don’t know if I’ve told you that yet? But…”_

Minato sighed as Yosuke changed the picture. The next few were of a girl with teal hair and a charcoal smudge on her cheek, drawing something on a large easel. The way she was framed against a large window, there was a halo of sunlight around her.

_“I ended up losing interest in most of my hobbies.”_

The next: a guy with shaggy hair and grey eyes peeking out from under a black beanie. Sitting on a low stone wall and smiling at something out of frame.

_“Photography was the one thing I kept doing because… I don’t know. It was easy, I guess.”_

The next: the same guy sitting in the same spot, but now holding the hand of someone standing before him. A boy with short, silvery-white hair. Probably who he had been smiling at in the first picture.

_“I still had no real interest in it, but… I had no interest in anything. You just learn to deal. You keep going through the motions.”_

The next picture was clearly taken by Souji: Minato on a rooftop in his school uniform. Chin up and shoulders back, but hiding his eyes from the camera, lips parted just slightly beneath his hand.

Minato toyed with his bangs as he looked down at his past self. _“My dad was a photographer. The kind that people hire to take pictures of their kids and dogs. I mean, he did some fashion stuff for local designers – I used to have this big book of everything he did – but what he got stuck with in the end was bulldogs in tutus. I got his old SLR after he died, so I just kinda just… y’know.”_

Yosuke looked away from the camera for a moment, staring at Minato’s profile. With the situation as it was, it was too easy to forget that he had once existed as something other than just a bizarre phenomenon that only Yosuke could see. That he had been a whole, real person. Someone with a history and a family, who drank bubble tea and collected DVDs and went shopping at flea markets and slept and sneezed and laughed and just _existed_.

 _“Oh,”_ Minato said softly, eyes on the camera.

The picture changed and then for the first time, Yosuke was really seeing the two of them together; Minato as he rested his head on Souji’s shoulder, eyes closed peacefully with a smile about his lips. Souji held the camera up at arm’s length, tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.

“You alright?” Yosuke asked quietly. He was listening intently for exploding lightbulbs or toppled shelves, but Minato just nodded.

The next few were more or less the same. All taken during the same time in one of their bedrooms, by the look of it. There were silly ones – one of Minato’s index fishhooking Souji’s cheek and Souji rolling his eyes back into his head, one of just Souji pushing his nose up like a pig’s – but they eventually dissolved into pictures of them kissing that had Yosuke getting embarrassed on Minato’s behalf, even if _he_ wasn’t.

“There aren’t any dirty pictures on here, are there?” Yosuke laughed awkwardly, not knowing whether he was serious or not.

_“They’re on a different card.”_

Yosuke’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you serious…?”

 _“You’re so easy,”_ Minato snorted. _“Why? You wanna see, don’t you?”_

“No – shut up,” Yosuke snapped, but he was laughing too, however much he was blushing.

Then they reached the end and their smiles slowly slipped. The last picture was of Souji’s and Minato’s legs and feet as they lay side by side, taken as if the camera was sitting on Minato’s chest. Even if size hadn’t been a factor, it would’ve been easy to tell them apart just by the socks alone; plain black versus cyan printed with black and white spotted cows.

With that, Yosuke shut the camera off and Minato got to his feet. He paced back and forth a little, cracking his knuckles like always.

“You alright?” Yosuke asked again. Minato nodded and Yosuke sighed, placing the camera on his bedside table. “I don’t get what this was supposed to do.”

 _“Me neither,”_ Minato admitted quietly. _“I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry I made you do this. Thank you, though.”_

“You didn’t _make_ me,” Yosuke mumbled. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “But you’re welcome.”

 _“It was nice seeing those pictures again. I’d forgotten about half of them.”_ Minato wore a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. _“That girl with the teal hair – we used to play this online game together. And those two guys with the – the hat and the hair… I didn’t really know them, but I kind of met them while doing a project for the photography club. I forgot about that. I forgot… a lot of things.”_

Minato fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and Yosuke watched the hair falling about his face. Thinking about the pictures, thinking about the dark circles that had been under his eyes even in the happiest of them, thinking about what his father had said down in the kitchen. Just thinking, thinking, thinking everything all at once until it swirled into one big and incoherent mess.

“You sure are talking a lot lately,” he laughed nervously. “I mean – it’s a good thing. I didn’t mean to say, like, it’s annoying or anything. I’m – I’m glad.”

Yosuke was forcing a smile but it vanished from his face as soon as he met Minato’s eyes. The way Minato was looking at him had him wondering if he was about to start crying again, and the gears in his head started turning, trying desperately to think of something to say that would stop that from happening.

“Uh – anyway… do you wanna go to Okina?”

 _“What?”_ And Yosuke was right – he was sounding choked again.

“Yeah, I’ll – I’ll borrow my dad’s car, we can go to that record shop in Okina. I was gonna suggest video games or something to take your mind off things for a bit, but… y’know.” Yosuke wiggled his fingers, which was somehow supposed to translate into Minato being unable to touch anything. “So… I’ll buy you a couple CDs or something. Since you’ve always got some smartass thing to say about my music.”

Minato scoffed and shook his head. _“I thought I told you not to baby me.”_

“I’m not, you idiot. It’s what friends do.” Yosuke got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

_“It’s New Year’s. They’re probably not open.”_

“They might be. If not, then we’ll just go for a drive or something. Unless you wanna sit around and watch more movies for the billionth time?”

Minato stared at him for a moment. Then he nodded.

_“Alright. Let’s go.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eta: the pacing i have between souji and yosuke is so fucking bizarre but i've dug myself into a hole. please ignore this lmfao
> 
> etax2: i keep thinking about how in this state, minato being driven anywhere is really just him hovering above the seat and zooming forwards at like 90km/h and i'm fucking...............


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!!! shoutout to tumblr user [autovaille](http://autovaille.tumblr.com/post/134623852904/please-read-1633) for making really gorgeous art that made me feel strong and powerful while simultaneously crying!!!!! this is the first time someone's made art for something i've written and i'm so emotional

Yosuke’s eyes kept flicking to the side. With the sun long since set outside and the florescent lighting inside, the window beside their table was more of a mirror than anything else. He was talking so much his burger and fries must’ve been getting cold, but Yosuke did that a lot. Talk. The general concept of a comfortable silence seemed a foreign idea to him, but Souji didn’t mind. He liked people like this; they went well with how quiet he could be. Listening to them, you didn’t have to think about anything but them. It was simple and nice.

He rested his chin on his hand and watched Yosuke nervously tuck his hair behind his ear, notice how it looked in his reflection, and quickly untuck it. Souji found himself smiling a little, so he wiped it off his face before Yosuke could notice it. ‘Endearing’ was a word he used a lot to describe people, but it seemed to apply to Yosuke more than most. Yosuke was a lot of things Souji liked about people. The awkwardness, the genuine kindness, and the feelings that shone through if you watched closely enough – especially when his tone dripped with resentment no matter how hard he tried to laugh it off.

“They were bugging me about it last night, too,” Yosuke was saying. “If I don’t hurry up and do something, I’m probably gonna have to take over as the Junes branch manager. It’s just – how am I supposed to decide on a career when I don’t even know half of what’s out there? It’s not like Inaba is any help. Unless I wanna become a farmer. Grow some cabbages.”

Souji nodded, sipping his overly sugary fountain pop. “Nanako has some gardening books she’d probably be happy to lend you.”

“Pff… Great, thanks.” Yosuke rubbed his hands nervously up and down his thighs. “Sorry, I guess this isn’t really interesting to talk about.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Souji said for the umpteenth time, “I like listening.”

“Yeah… Well, what about you? Do you know what you wanna do when – oh, I almost said ‘when you grow up’ but I guess we’re kinda grown up already? That’s a scary thought.”

Souji laughed. “Yeah, I have no idea.”

“You could probably do whatever you want,” Yosuke pushed on. “You seem to be pretty good at everything – except driving, heh. Why don’t you become a chef or something? You’re a good cook.”

“Eh… I don’t really like cooking that much.”

“What, really?” When Souji merely shrugged, Yosuke pushed, “But you’re so good at it. And you cook pretty much every time I come over.”

Souji averted his eyes, watching a couple employees behind the counter talking and laughing. Being that it was late on a Monday night, Souji and Yosuke were the only customers there and the drive-through seemed equally dead. The employees spoke loudly over the counter as one wandered into the dining area with a broom and dustpan, joking about someone they apparently both knew, and their laughter rang through the small building.

“I just cook because I have to,” Souji said.

The employee sweeping cold fries out from under a nearby table caught his eye and smiled, which Souji returned easily. Yosuke stared at him and waited for Souji to elaborate but when he didn’t, a silence stretched between them and it wasn’t a comfortable one. Though he knew that if he left it as it was, eventually Yosuke’s unease would set him babbling again, Souji sighed and made the effort for him.

“With my parents and now Dojima working a lot, I never have any choice. I could order in, but that’s a waste of money.” Thinking of all the mouldy food he’d willingly chosen to consume, Souji added, “I don’t like wasting things. So I cook. But I can’t imagine doing it for hours at a time. Day in, day out, every day.”

Souji sounded much bitterer than he intended and it left another awkward silence in its wake.

Yosuke’s eyebrows twitched up.

“Oh,” he said, and it was all he said.

Souji agitatedly toyed with his drink, pushing in all the buttons on the plastic lid. He understood what Yosuke was doing. Yosuke wanted to know more about him because that was friends did – making sincere connections, talking about your real feelings. More than just sitting there and listening, one-sided and superficial, it was about understanding each other emotionally. Souji knew that even before Yosuke had explained it to him like he was some kind of child. He’d gone through it once before.

“You should’ve said something.”

Souji looked up, a little surprised at how irritated Yosuke sounded.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t’ve let you cook all the time… Now I just feel like a dick.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not that big of a deal,” Souji laughed. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m not.” Yosuke picked up a couple fries, hesitated, then dropped them. “You didn’t have to pretend, man. This is what I was talking about before. Like, when we first started hanging out, the… talking thing. It’s… not fair to keep secrets. I’m not gonna hate you because the thought of making me curry drives you up the wall.”

Souji shifted, suddenly on edge. He remembered hearing once that the seating in fast food restaurants was specifically designed to be uncomfortable for long periods of time to make sure no one loitered, but he didn’t think that had anything to do with it.

He just wanted to be out of there. Alone. Out from under the microscope.

Far away from Yosuke.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he mumbled. “Are you ready to go?”

Yosuke looked down at his half-finished food. “Uh…”

Souji nodded to the sweeping employee. “It’s just that they’re closing soon, so…”

“Oh – crap, you’re right. Well, I can eat this on the go. You don’t care about food in your truck, right? Why would you?” he finished with a teasing laugh.

As he got to his feet, Souji just smiled.

 

* * *

 

“Great! Yes, thank you again.”

Souji hung up and placed the phone back on the cradle. When he turned around, Dojima raised his eyebrows over his cup of coffee. “You got the apartment?”

Souji nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face. “It’s all mine.”

“Hey, congratulations! Your first place – that’s pretty exciting.”

“It is,” Souji grinned. “Scary, too.”

Dojima took a sip of coffee, watching Souji through the steam curling off his drink. There was a look in his eyes that really showed his years as a detective. What the books called ‘piercing,’ perhaps. Like he could see right through everything. Casual or not, it was easy to feel like Souji was taking his place in an interrogation room as he sat down across from him.

“Souji… you know you don’t have to move, right?” Dojima’s voice was especially gentle, clashing oddly with its natural throatiness. “Your year here won’t be up for a while yet. It’s not my place to pry… but whatever’s going on between you and your parents, we’re your family too. Nanako and I both like having you here. Worst comes to worst, I don’t mind picking a fight with my sister.”

“I know,” Souji smiled calmly, “and thank you, but this is something I have to do for myself. I’m an adult now, right?”

Dojima sighed and his chair creaked as he leaned back. “I guess I can understand that.”

“But – thank you,” Souji said earnestly. “Really. My time here with you both was…”

He faltered and looked down at his hands, trying to think of how to describe it. ‘The happiest it could’ve been’ would have worked, but it caught in his throat. Happiness felt wrong. He wasn’t even sure that’s what it was.

Despite them never talking about it, Dojima knew about what had happened before Souji came here. And likewise, Nanako had told Souji what happened to Dojima’s wife. They’d both been through something similar but neither had reached out to the other. It was reduced to an unspoken acknowledgment between them.

“I know,” was all Dojima said before getting to his feet. He headed into the kitchen and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain, but on his way to his bedroom, he placed a large hand on the top of Souji’s head and ruffled his hair like he was a kid.

Long after Dojima’s bedroom door had shut, Souji still sat at the table, staring at the same spot. Until some realization ticked in his head and he started, checking the watch on his wrist. He was going to be late for work.

 

* * *

 

“Do you need any help moving? I’ve got this weekend off if –”

“No, it’s okay,” came Souji’s voice through the phone. “I don’t have much and Dojima said he’d help me. If we need it, he’s gonna rope Adachi into it, too.” In the background, a girl’s voice added something. “Yes, and Nanako’s helping,” Souji said with a small laugh.

“Oh, well she’s all you need. But seriously,” Yosuke said, “are you sure? I know how much of a pain moving is. The more people helping, the better.”

“Yep, I’m sure. I will probably be stopping at Junes eventually, though. I don’t want to take Dojima’s furniture so I need a couch – or a bed. The apartment’s only big enough for one.”

“Get a Western futon. We got a couple in.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

An odd silence hung on the line and Yosuke found himself staring absentmindedly at the back of Minato’s head. The ghost was peering through the window at a couple birds sitting on the tree outside. They were cawing loudly and had been all morning, so he stuck his upper body through the window and waved his arms, yelling expletives at them until they flew off. Yosuke snorted and swiveled his chair, putting the scene behind him.

With his only excuse shot down, Yosuke was left without a way to sneak the camera back into Souji’s room before he noticed it was missing – if he hadn’t already. In his experience clothes were some of the last things packed so there was still time, but it was ticking down.

The problem was that they hadn’t hung out at Dojima’s since he stole it. Every time Yosuke asked him to hang out, Souji never invited him over. Lately they only hung out in public places – the river, Junes’ food court, the shopping district… And that was _when_ they did actually hang out. Busy with work or not, Souji was being oddly distant.

Things had been going good between them; it didn’t make sense. Both Christmas and New Year’s had been fun – or at least Yosuke thought they had been. Maybe he was the only one.

He swiveled back and forth in his computer chair a little and Minato walked over, standing beside the desk and fidgeting with a pen on it. It took Yosuke a moment to notice, but then he pointed and mouthed _What the hell?_ and Minato grinned proudly. But as soon as he did, his fingers phased through. Yosuke snorted and swivelled away from him, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

“Souji, is everything okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Something seems up,” Yosuke said carefully.

Minato was watching closely. There was no response for so long that Yosuke looked at his phone to make sure Souji hadn’t hung up. But no, if he listened closely, he could hear Souji shuffling around.

“It’s just – I want you to know that you can talk to me,” Yosuke pressed. It seemed like something he’d been saying so often lately, and it was starting to sound like begging. Like it may as well have been _please talk to me_. “Uh… especially about what you told me on Christmas. I know that… it’s been hard. I mean I don’t _know_ , but… if you – I’m just saying, suicide is something that –”

“What?”

 _“Yosuke!”_ Minato snapped, eyes wide.

Yosuke blinked. “What?”

“He didn’t -” Souji let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never told you he – I said he passed away.”

“Oh.” Yosuke’s heart stopped. “Oh… Uh… R-really? Are you – are you sure you didn’t?” He laughed desperately, frantically, as if anything in the world was funny at that moment. “That’s – that’s weird, I could’ve sworn –”

“I’m sure,” Souji insisted, and he sounded angry. For the first time, he sounded _livid_. “It wasn’t – He wouldn’t – I have to go. Dojima’s calling me.”

And just like that he hung up. Yosuke looked down at his cell and then up at Minato. The ghost looked every bit as furious as Souji had sounded.

_“What the **hell** , Yosuke?”_

“It’s fine,” Yosuke insisted, because it was looking like denial was all he would have at this point. “It’s – there’s no way – what, you think he’s gonna be like, ‘What a weird slip-up. I bet Minato’s lingering spirit is haunting him.’ There’s no way! It’s… it’s fine, right?”

Minato didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he crossed his arms and shifted his weight from leg to leg. Yosuke looked down at his phone, digging his nail into a deep scratch from dropping it long ago.

“I do feel bad lying to him, though,” Yosuke admitted. He curled his legs up in his chair and propped his head up on his hand. At Minato’s sharp look, he added quickly, “I know you don’t wanna tell him, but it’s just that… the other day I was giving him shit for not telling me things, and… I dunno. This sucks.”

_“Sorry…”_

“But – why doesn’t he think you killed yourself?” Yosuke asked cautiously.

 _“I don’t know.”_ Minato spoke so quietly it almost wasn’t audible. He looked off to the side. _“Maybe they’re saying it was an accident. Or that’s just what he wants to believe.”_

“But… it wasn’t, was it?”

Minato simply gave him a small, sad smile.

 

* * *

 

“Mom.”

“You finally answered your phone.”

Souji pressed his forehead against the cold window, watching the melting snow drip from the rooftop. Every drop reflected the light from the streetlamp just down the road. Tiny orange dots against the indigo sky.

“What do you want?” Chances were he already knew the answer. There were very few things his parents ever wanted from him. Enough to count on one hand.

“Don’t take that tone with me.”

“Sorry.”

And there was the biggest: obedience.

“I wanted to let you know I spoke with Arisato the other day,” his mother said, and Souji closed his eyes briefly. “She says the position is still open if you’re willing, but she can’t keep it vacant for much longer. It’s near impossible for her to function without a personal assistant. She’s had a few temps, but that never goes smoothly. She’s really trying for you, Souji, don’t let her kindness go to waste.”

In the background Souji could hear that singing bowl music and instead of being anything calming, it just set his nerves on edge. For as long as he could remember, that music had played in the background while he stood before her desk as she read his report cards, or when she called home from work to tell him they were putting in overtime. Again. Now the only thing he could associate that beautiful noise with was severe anxiety. It may as well have been nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m staying in Inaba,” Souji said with a careful and even voice that didn’t betray his shaking hands. “That apartment I told you about – I got it, Mom. I’m staying here. Tell her thank you, but –”

“Souji, _enough_ ,” his mother sighed wearily. “If you keep this up you’re going to remain a janitor for the rest of your life. You’re never going to amount to anything. You _need_ to move on.”

Souji didn’t say anything. Already his heart was beginning to race.

“What happened with Minato was unfortunate,” she continued gently, and he felt his gut twist as he squeezed his eyes shut, “but you can’t just run away. At some point you have to pick yourself up and dust yourself off.”

“Yeah?” Souji forced himself to laugh, wiping his sweaty palm on his leg. “What do you think I’ve been doing on my own since you two decided work was more important than me? How is it over there, by the way? Having fun?”

“Don’t _be_ like that,” his mother snapped. “We thought that cancelling the trip would put too much pressure on you, so we did what we thought was best. What would you have us do instead? Stay home and spend all our time together? We’ve never been that kind of family. Can you honestly tell me you would’ve enjoyed that? Would that have helped at all?”

No answer came and she sighed again. Souji turned away from the window and sat on the couch, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his forehead on his knees. He took a deep breath, holding the phone away when he exhaled so she wouldn’t hear.

On the rare times they actually talked it always ended up like this.

“I just don’t want my only child to end up a janitor,” she continued quietly. “Inaba has nothing to offer. I want more for you – I always have. You’re such a smart boy, you could go so far in life. Don’t throw it away just because of some boy –”

“Don’t –” The hand resting against the couch clenched into a fist and Souji pressed his forehead to his knee until it hurt. “Don’t make it sound like that.”

“I’m sorry, I misspoke –”

“Just – I don’t care, just leave me alone,” Souji sighed. He wanted to yell at her, to scream and make her feel as horrible as he did, but he couldn’t manage it. “Don’t call anymore. You can’t just – just butt in when you decide I’m not doing a good enough job on my own, not after it was _you_ that left me on my own.”

“Souji –”

But he hung up and silence rang out, not unlike the singing bowls she was so fond of. Souji squeezed his phone, picturing snapping it in half over and over again, and he wanted to – he wanted to break something, to drive his fist into the wall, but instead he sat with his head between his knees and tried to slow his breathing, still his shaking, his heartbeat –

– and there was a knock on his bedroom door and a tiny voice.

“Big Bro? Dad wants to know if you wanna come shopping at Junes with us.”

No answer came.

“…Big Bro?”

A deep, cleansing breath, and Souji raised his head.

“Sorry! I had my headphones on and didn’t hear you,” he said without a single waver. Acting skills developed naturally after being raised by the kinds of people his parents were and honed in years of drama club. A point of pride that he hated more than anything. “Can I help you with something?”

“Do you wanna come to Junes with me and Dad?”

“Oh! Yeah, I’d love to,” he said in the cheerful voice he knew she liked. He was smiling to make it sound just that much more realistic, but it faltered at the thought of running into Yosuke. “Uh, give me a minute, okay?”

“Okay!”

Over his own racing heart he heard the sound of her footsteps retreating down the stairs, leaving him alone again. And as much as he hated it, as much as he wanted someone to call him out on it again, there came a flood of relief.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey.”

Yosuke leaned against the doorframe, watching her lean closer to the bathroom mirror so she could blend her eyeshadow. She was wearing a pantsuit he’d never seen before and her bob was set in loose waves. It really was hard to believe she’d just had a hip replacement surgery. All things considered, she did look good. He wanted to believe that was why he had so easily chosen to avoid her when she came home, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

“Do you need in here?”

“Nope.” Yosuke crossed his arms, pinching the material of his sleeve between his thumb and index and just rubbing it back and forth. “You’re going out?”

“With a couple friends from work.”

“Fun.”

Swiping some shadow from her cheekbone with her ring finger, she looked at him suspiciously. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I just wanted to see what you’re up to.”

The look she gave him was so doubtful he should’ve been offended, but instead he only felt shame. Something about Minato’s breakdown had been sticking with him. Looking back on the eagerness with which he had run into this whole thing, the way he’d treated it like some adventure, used it to get away from thinking about the sudden reality of his mother’s aging and what he thought was his imprisonment in Inaba – he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted his own motivations anymore.

He wanted to believe he genuinely wished to spend time with her, but the thought of having a third party to talk things over with was appealing all the same. He hoped it could be both. Give and take, just like he kept telling Souji.

“If something’s wrong, I don’t mind listening, Yosuke. I’m your mother, you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

“I know…” Yosuke looked at the tiled bathroom floor, running his toe along the grout. “Hey, how about I take you out one of these day? We’ll go out for coffee or something, my treat. It’s been a while.”

His mother gave him another strange look and laughed a little. “What? What brought this on?”

“I dunno. It’s just… I never did anything to welcome you home from the hospital or congratulate you on recovery or – or anything. I dunno. Do you wanna?”

“Yosuke… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” He frowned and laughed at the same time, still keeping his head lowered and eyes on his feet. “Why, am I such a bad person that I wouldn’t just do something randomly nice for you?”

Either because he was a poor liar or simply because she was a mother, she clearly didn’t buy it. She gave him another doubtful look before shaking her head and sighing. Returning to her reflection to smear a crème blush across her cheekbone, she said, “Coffee sounds nice.”

 

* * *

 

Crouched beside a frozen vegetable garden, Yosuke peered around the corner of the stone wall, his quick and anxious breaths coming out in tiny white puffs. The temperature had plummeted as soon as the sun went down but he and Minato were watching Souji kneel on the frozen ground regardless, extending his hand to a stray cat. Right in the middle of the road, with his back to Dojima’s place. Convenient, really.

“There has to be a better way to do this,” Yosuke whispered.

_“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”_

Somewhere in Yosuke’s pocket was his cellphone with the message from Souji, offhandedly mentioning he was alone that night. Dojima was working late and Nanako was at a friend’s. When he’d read it over Yosuke’s shoulder, Minato had said that if they were going to do this then tonight was their chance. With Souji home, the door was unlocked. And now with him outside, the house was empty. There wasn't going to be another chance like this.

“This is so… I don’t even have an excuse if this goes wrong.”

_“Admit to being a panty sniffer.”_

“Fuck you,” Yosuke laughed as quietly as he could.

The streetlight was casting an orange glow about them. Minato watched it on his hand as he rolled a small pebble between his fingers. Occasionally it slipped through and he had to pick it off the ground, but it was still the most control over an object he’d yet been able to exert.

“You’re _sure_ you can do this?”

 _“Yeah,”_ Minato nodded. _“If the alternative is him finding the camera missing, then… yeah.”_

“Aren’t you the one who’s desperate to keep him from finding out about you? This is like… the worst thing we could do to keep that from happening. He’s a smart guy,” Yosuke said, watching Souji stick a hand into his pocket. He pulled out what looked like plastic bag full of fish and held out a piece to the cat, which took another cautious step forward. “I’m just worried he’s going to put two and two together. I know earlier I said that him jumping to the ghost conclusion was the least possible thing, but honestly, I’m starting to doubt that.”

_“Look, he’s with a cat. That means we’ve got an hour at least. I probably won’t even have to do anything.”_

“Would it even be that big of a deal if he noticed the camera missing? He’d probably just think he misplaced it or something.”

_“When you keep things like that in a special place, it’s for a reason. He wouldn’t just carelessly misplace it. Especially not Souji. And you’re the… you’re the only friend he has. The only person who goes in his room, so… You’re the only suspect. You wanna deal with that, fine with me.”_

“Then – if we just wait until he’s at work, give the camera to Dojima or something –”

_“Then Dojima would tell him you dropped it off. If you told him not to, then he would think something was up and might do it anyway.”_

“What about Nanako? How good do you think she is at keeping secrets?”

_“Yosuke…”_

They had been over this already.

_“You keep stalling and he’ll head inside, then it won’t matter either way. Or he’s going to hear you.”_

Yosuke sighed. “Fine. I’m going. Just remember – _don’t_ do anything stupid. Keep him distracted, that’s all. I’ll be quick as I can. He starts coming inside, start screaming or something. I'll hear you.”

Minato laughed and nodded and they both got to their feet. Without further hesitation, Yosuke hopped over the wall and crept along the house to the front door, sliding it open as slowly and quietly as he could so he could slip inside. Minato took a couple cautious steps forward. He stared intently, watching Souji for any sign that he heard, but they were pretty far down the road and at that moment he was making kissy noises at the cat which seemed to cover up the noise easily enough. Something tugged at the back of Minato’s mind and he looked over his shoulder at the house. The distance between them probably meant Yosuke was far inside the house, which was good at least.

He turned back to Souji. Standing behind him, Minato couldn’t see his face – though if it was at a cat, he could guess the kind of face he was making. Still, he took a cautious step forward and leaned to the side, trying to get a glimpse of it.

“It’s okay,” Souji was saying gently, his voice echoing down the otherwise empty street. He clicked his tongue a couple times, wiggling the fish in his hand. The cat took another tentative step toward him just as Minato came to stand alongside Souji and it turned its green eyes on him – then it hissed, swiped at Souji’s hand, and bolted down the road.

As Souji cradled the injury against his chest, Minato crouched down beside him. So close their shoulders would’ve touched if they were still part of one another’s worlds, and he stared at Souji’s face. He looked exhausted.

But then Souji got to his feet and Minato’s heart dropped. He paused only to brush his hands off on his pants and started off toward the house.

Panicking and desperate, Minato did the only thing he could think of and whipped the pebble he was still holding at the back of Souji’s head.

 

* * *

 

Souji had been on his knees for so long he was losing feeling in his feet, but the cat was only just starting to inch toward him, its nose twitching at the smell of raw fish. Any sudden movements would scare it away and judging by its skin and bones appearance, it needed this.

It was selfish, he supposed, to force the cat into some kind of ultimatum if it wanted food. Souji could’ve just as easily placed the fish down and left instead of making it approach him, but it was too late for that kind of regret. Or so he told himself. Truth was, he was just selfish.

“It’s okay,” he said gently. He clicked his tongue a couple times, wiggling the fish in his hand, and the cat took another tentative step toward him – but then hissed, swiped at his hand, and bolted down the road.

Souji grimaced and sucked air through his teeth, pinching his wounded finger. It was surprisingly deep, which was about what he deserved. He should’ve just put the fish down and left, but he was so pathetic and starved for affection that he had sought it from some stray animal.

Laughing bitterly at himself, Souji got to his feet and headed for the house –

Then something hit the back of his head, small and hard enough to sting. He swore louder than he intended to and turned around, but there was no one there. He didn’t know who he was expecting – bratty kids or something. Souji looked at the ground, but there was nothing there either. Just the abandoned fish and – and his eyes went wide.

A stone the size of a marble was dragging itself along the concrete in short, slow lurches.

Souji stared, crouching down to get a better look and making sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Heart hammering against his ribs, worried that if he looked away even for a moment that it would stop. It took a long time, but once the small stone completed its path, it started over from the beginning – so he got to his feet and hurried into the car shelter, looking for something. He knew it was here, somewhere; during the summer, he and Nanako had – there. A box of sidewalk chalk. He grabbed a stick and returned to the pebble, glad to see it still moving.

Heart nearly bursting out of his chest, Souji traced a line alongside its path. Straight at first, then it curved around a half-circle. The pebble changed direction, carving out another arc and a line, and came to a stop as soon as the two lines were connected.

Souji let out a shuddering breath.

A heart drawn in pale blue chalk.

On his hands and knees, chest heaving with shallow breaths, Souji looked around desperately. But the street was empty. The house behind him was empty. There was no one around.

“Minato?”

There was no answer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna be like ‘hey… draw me more art that was fun’ but i just realized i got the date of his death fucking wrong and now i have to go back and edit that bit from when he was lurking over souji and counting the days and now I’m laughing so i don’t deserve it  
> anyways.  
> here’s another flashback. it’s accidentally twice the length of the previous few chapters. woops

Souji learned early that if he was quiet enough he would become a blank canvas. People would paint him in whatever colours they want to see. They were beautiful more often than not and there was something nice about that. It said good things about people; the kindness they were capable of and the kindness they wanted to see in the world. He liked to believe people were good at the heart of it all and this only proved it, to his mind.

But it also just made the expectations harder to live up to, and he knew all about expectations.

He’d always been quiet. People attributed it to shyness some times and stoicism others. Calm and collected. Composed. They all had their own names and labels for him and they all made him itch. They thought too highly of him. Never distant. Never detached. Cool, never cold. Never allowed to be anything less.

Good, dependable Souji.

Quiet Souji.

Obedient Souji.

Tired Souji.

Drained.

Exhausted.

Empty.

Robotic.

Soulless.

Cold, detached Souji went through the motions. Stood before his new class and stood before another new class and another new class. Only kind of tried to remember people’s names. Went home. Worked. Slept. Woke up. Went to school. Turned down the karaoke invite with a tilted head and a practiced regretful smile, promising ‘next time.’ Went home. Studied. Studied, studied, studied. Then it was time to move again and repeat the process from step one.

Because of his parents. Everything always came back to them.

Days spent alone because of their jobs. Solitary dinners and phone calls telling him they were working late again, and did he get all his homework done? Good, dependable Souji would assure them that he did. And a bit of cleaning, too. Made dinner and washed the dishes so that when they finally got home, there would be no sign he had existed all day. All they would say was, “Good. Thank you,” and quiet, obedient Souji would wag his tail like the dog he was. Resenting, hating, and desperate for their approval all at once. Drained, exhausted Souji.

“It must be so hard,” people always told him and he wanted it to be true. It used to be. It definitely used to be. Somewhere along the way it got too easy. All he had to do was be what everyone else wanted him to be.

Until desperate, lonely Souji messed everything up.

“What do you want from me?”

Minato was drenched in rainwater and looking up at him and everything was screaming to a halt. Minato had no colours to paint him in. Minato only saw the grey sludge all the colours had turned into.

What _did_ Souji want? Why did he want anything at all? Why was this one boy different than everyone else he’d ever met?

Not that it mattered, in the end. After chasing him for so long, Souji simply turned tail and ran as soon as Minato turned to face him. One sign that the answer wasn’t going to be the one he arrogantly assumed he would get – because people always liked him, that was just how it was – and pathetic, terrified Souji threw it all away.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks and nothing had changed. Minato peered at his reflection in a butter knife like he expected to see the results of his medication in the depths of his eyes, but it was all the same. He still felt the same.

That morning – like every other morning – it had been an effort to get out of bed and when he finally managed it, it had been an effort to stand in the shower. He’d gotten tired halfway through and ended up sitting on the floor until the water started running cold. Breakfast had tasted like cardboard and he’d felt sick afterwards because it had been so long since he last ate – he kept forgetting to. The people on the train irritated him so he turned up his music until he couldn’t hear them, but even then his favourite band sounded too tinny in his ear.

Now he was reaching the end of his shift at Chagall and his bones felt as if they were made of concrete.

Maybe it sounded melodramatic, but everything was awful.

“Hey, can you get the customer that just came in? I’m gonna take my break now.”

Leaning against the counter, he looked past his co-worker as she untied her apron and watched the hooded customer make his way to a table by the wall. Judging by the large backpack he heaved into the opposite seat, he was one of the many college students the café always got.  Minato gave him a moment to adjust his books across the table, turning to sip from the bottle of water he had sitting on the counter.

It was bizarre thinking about having the drive to continue education after high school, especially considering how much high school was already taking out of him. It was just odd to think about being older in general. He often listened to other people talking about their plans for the future and every time he was reminded he had none. There was nothing he wanted to do with his life, but more than that – he couldn’t see himself as an old man or anything. There was just this odd disconnect.

Minato blinked and realized he’d been ignoring the customer for too long, so he hurried over. Halfway there, the customer pushed down his rain-flecked hood and Minato stopped dead in the middle of the aisle.

Of course this would happen.

Chin resting on his palm, Souji glanced over at him and Minato watched the shock register on that normally serene face. It was all in the eyes. They grew wide and looked away, as if he was thinking that if he pretended he didn’t notice then it somehow didn’t happen. But slowly, his gaze roved back over and the two were given no choice but to acknowledge one another.

“Minato.” Souji was smiling the smile that was barely a smile, but it seemed different than before. It didn’t meet his eyes. They kept glancing around, blinking rapidly. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah.”

Just like that Minato’s hands were shaking, so he shoved them in his pockets where they clenched into fists around his pen and waiter’s pad. He lowered his eyes until they fell to Souji’s legs crossed under the table, which only reminded him of stretching them in volleyball practice. So he looked away. Anywhere else. The table. Which led to Souji’s hand, twirling his pen. Long legs, long fingers, and then Minato was swallowing hard and frowning down at the pad of paper he pulled out of his pocket.

“Uh… Can I get you something?”

“Coffee.”

“Just -?”

“Black. Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Minato turned on his heel and headed back to the counter.

This was their first time really interacting since the – whatever it had turned out to be. Confession. Falling out. Even though Souji sat at the desk in front of him they didn’t speak during class, and since Minato had quit they no longer had volleyball together. It had been a long, awkward two weeks.

On the rare days (or maybe hours at most) where he didn’t figure it would be better for everyone if he just left them alone, he’d often thought about how to reconcile with Souji. To explain that he didn’t _really_ mean it when he said he hated being around him.

This wasn’t like any of the scenarios he’d planned in his head. They all turned out much more… romantic, he realized uncomfortably. Like something out of a manga. Pop culture was all he had to go by for stuff like this. Romantic wasn’t really him, but there was no other way to describe the way Imaginary Souji had literally swept him off his feet and all their problems were miraculously solved with a kiss.

Only when he accidentally bumped the back of his hand against the scalding coffee pot did Minato snap out of his reverie. He filled a mug and carried it back to Souji, trying to avoid his eye as he placed it on the table.

“Minato.”

It was an effort to look at him, but when he did he found Souji looking embarrassed. It was subtle, but it was there. Just the slightest colour in his cheeks and the way his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat.

“I, uh… About what happened, I wanted to say…”

As strange as it was, there was something reassuring about seeing him looking so uncomfortable, twiddling his thumbs and averting his eyes. Always so aloof and unaffected, this was him being brought down to Minato’s anxious level. It made him more human and fallible.

“My shift is over in half an hour,” Minato said. “If you want to –”

“Yeah,” Souji nodded. “Alright.”

With that, Minato turned and walked away. But Souji quickly finished his coffee, bringing him back to wordlessly fill it up. Then again. Again and again. Over the course of thirty minutes, Minato kept filling his cup to the point where he started wondering if he should cut him off. Souji just sat there with his head bowed over his textbooks and notes, leg bouncing under the table as he scribbled in his notebook. From the glimpses Minato kept sneaking, the notes were all neatly organized but there were doodles in the margins and parts where he had scribbled until the paper was inky black and shiny smooth.

Souji only raised his head when Minato was standing by the door, changed out of his work clothes and calling out to him. At the speed of light, he crammed all his books back into his bag and swung it over his shoulder. There was something tight about his jaw, but other than that he seemed fine.

Souji picked at his nails as they crossed the lobby of the mall. “So, do you – have you been working at Chagall long? I remember seeing you here before. In Paulownia. Just over there.”

“Uh… yeah. A while now.”

“Oh. That was my first time ever going there. Some people from class said it was good and I needed a place to study but I was hungry so I went there. I guess I forgot to get something to eat, though.”

“Huh.”

Minato watched Souji through sidelong glances as they emerged out onto the rain-soaked street, wondering if he should take his prior evaluation back. Souji didn’t seem fine at all. His eyes kept darting all around and he was tapping his finger rapidly against his thigh.

Without a destination in mind, they began to walk down the street. It rained earlier but had stopped not long ago. Many people still carried their umbrellas with them and the sidewalk was still full of puddles. The sun was beginning to set, splashing the sky with vibrant purples and reds, and the breeze was pleasantly cool against the muggy summer air. Wherever they were going – where _this_ was going – they were going to have a nice setting for it, at least.

Minato chewed his lip. Despite being the one to invite Souji out, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know where they were going. Mentally, he was kicking himself for not realizing that wherever they did go to talk, there would have to be the awkward journey there. But even at the end of that, it left the question of where to go. This wasn’t really something that could be talked about in public. Which just left one of their homes but that was even more awkward.

They reached the first intersection and Souji pointed down the street to their right. “There’s a park just down that way. And – there’s an ice cream shop, if you want. My treat. But I guess it’s not really ice cream weather. Coffee – I could buy you coffee. Oh, we should’ve gotten you some from Chagall. Do you get an employee discount? I would hope so.”

Minato frowned a bit. “I don’t think you should have anything with sugar in it.”

“Probably not.” Souji smiled calmly and held up a hand, palm down and fingers extended, and the two of them stood there and watched it tremble. Like he was commenting on the weather, he said, “I’m having heart palpitations.”

“What the hell? Are you okay?”

“No, not at all,” Souji answered easily. “I was really nervous even before the coffee. It didn’t help.”

Minato stared at him, but Souji was averting his eyes.

“I won’t have any ice cream. But I’ll still buy you some if you want. Do you?”

“Uh… okay…”

From tense to confused, Minato just wasn’t sure how to act. This wasn’t the Souji he had come to be intimidated by. They stopped in at the ice cream shop that was on the corner across from the park and the softserve cone at least gave Minato something to do with his hands, which was more of a relief than he had expected.

As they hurried across the road to the park, Souji looked serenely over at him and said, “I come here to peoplewatch a lot.”

“That sounds really creepy.”

“It’s not. I just like watching people.”

“Yeah, like I said…”

A cobblestone path twisted through the park between gentle slopes of grass so green it looked fake. Minato watched a young couple pushing a stroller along the path toward them and tried to see what charm Souji would see in them, but he couldn’t do it. He just saw a kid and the two people that most likely had sex in order to create it. They had nothing to do with him. Any fondness they had for one another didn’t affect him in the least. They might not even like each other that much. Assuming they did was just seeing them the way you wanted to. Reality wasn’t that kind.

But when he looked from them to Souji, it was to find he was watching the family too and his grey eyes were gentle. Minato chewed his lip and looked away.

“I thought you said you try not to get close to people. Everything you do contradicts that.”

Souji smiled a little bitterly. “I don’t. I don’t reciprocate anything. I just listen, keep them at arm’s length. It probably makes it harder, but…” He shrugged. “It’s better than being completely alone.”

Minato looked down at his hand. He’d been so absorbed in whatever the hell this was turning out to be that he’d forgotten his ice cream. It was melting, covering his hand in pale pink stickiness. “Did I start out like that to you?”

Souji turned his eyes to Minato, watching him lick the ice cream off his fingers, and he nodded.

“Yeah. You were always so grouchy and sleepy, I thought it was really cute,” he said unabashedly.

As easy as it would’ve been to blame it on the substantial amount of caffeine coursing through Souji’s system, Minato knew him well enough by that point to know saying things like that was just how he was. Trying his hardest to ignore the fluttering in his chest, Minato kept his attention focused on his ice cream.

“And now we’re here,” Souji said. Tap, tap, tapping that finger against his leg again, eyes unblinking and caffeine-wired. Minato looked around, but there were just at some random point along the park path, so he assumed he meant ‘here’ in the general sense of things. “Where do we go from here?”

“I…” Minato stared at his ice cream as if it could still help him. He could feel his shoulders tensing, hunching up like it could protect him from the intensity of Souji’s stare and the weight of expectation. “I don’t know. You’re… a lot to deal with.”

Souji snorted, something Minato had never heard him do before. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I tried thinking about it these last few weeks and… I still don’t get you.” Minato rubbed the heel of his palm back and forth across his forehead. “When you freaked out at me, it felt like… that was the first time I really understood you. You were mad and scared about being rejected and I understood that. I’m not saying you’re a liar – I know you mean it when you say all that… all that nice stuff, but… I don’t know. It’s not natural to just be calm and smile all the time. Don’t you get annoyed or angry about stuff?”

Souji ran his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. “Of course I do.”

“Then why don’t you act on it? When we first met, I was kind of rude to you but you just… took it in stride.”

“Now _I_ don’t get it,” Souji said. “Who would want someone to be angry?”

“That’s… oversimplifying it. I’m just saying, there’s a difference between being nice and being a doormat.”

Souji stopped walking and Minato followed suit a couple paces ahead of him. With the sun rapidly setting, it seemed far darker than it had been when they first entered the park. Souji was just staring at Minato, looking pained and confused. The only part of him moving was his hair getting ruffled by the breeze, until he pressed a hand to his bangs to keep them from blowing back.

“Souji…?”

“Do you not like it when I’m kind to you?”

“That’s not it,” Minato said slowly. “I just – don’t want kindness if it’s fake or if it’s just a burden for the other person. There’s a point where it just becomes taking advantage and it’s not fair – to either of us. I don’t… I _never_ want to be a burden for someone else.”

Souji closed his eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath while Minato just watched him, completely confused. This really, really wasn’t going any of the ways he’d pictured it.

“That was the second time you’ve called me fake,” Souji said, staring off somewhere into the distance.

“Sorry…” Minato gave a nervous half-laugh and shifted his weight. “This is why I avoid people. I just end up… doing this.”

“No, you’re fine, you’re… I like it. That you would say that to me.”

Souji gnawed his index’s nail. His hands were still shaking.

“You said you don’t know what I want from you,” he said thoughtfully, letting his hand drop. “It’s always the other way around; people always want something from me. But I don’t know what it is you want. It feels like you don’t want anything but if it was that simple, then this wouldn’t be so…”

They stood there for a moment, a gentle breeze blowing their hair about and Souji bouncing on the balls of his feet, still completely wired. And Minato started laughing. Quietly at first, then it grew into something that came from deep within and he was hiding his smile behind his hand.

“This is so _stupid_.”

Souji looked a little taken aback for a moment, then he was smiling too.

“Why’re we both so bad at this?” Minato mumbled, rubbing his forehead wearily.

Souji took a step closer, looking down at Minato with nervous determination on his face. “Then… look, you know that I like you. A lot. That hasn’t changed. So, what you said about… hating being around me…”

Minato shook his head, staring at the ground, smile faltering. “That was… I’m… I’m not good with words and you’re – really intimidating. In – in a good way. I just panicked, and… I-I do like you too.”

“Okay,” Souji nodded tremulously. “That’s what I thought – or hoped. Good. Good. That’s good. So we’re good? Things are okay between us?”

Minato nodded and Souji smiled.

“ _Shit_ ,” he breathed suddenly, bending double and putting a hand to his heart.

“Are you -?”

“I feel like I’m dying,” Souji laughed, but it quickly gave way to a small groan and he braced himself up with his hands on his knees. “I shouldn’t have had so much coffee but I was nervous and – and now I’m messing this up.”

“We can sit down, if you want,” Minato offered uncertainly, looking around for a bench.

“Yeah, that’d probably be…”

But the only bench around was taken by a couple of seniors, so Souji just shook his head and headed for the grass. With no regard for the fact it was still damp from the rain, he dropped his bag and plopped down next to it. He was halfway through shedding his jacket so Minato would have something to sit on before he stopped him and just sat down next to him. Immediately the rainwater began to soak uncomfortably through his pants, adding to how cold his ice cream was leaving him, but it was par for the course with how awkward this whole thing had been.

They sat for a long time, Souji with his head in his hands and Minato finishing off his ice cream. Then Souji raised his head and looked at him.

 “So, we’re good,” he reiterated, tapping his toes rapidly against the ground.

“Yeah.”

“How good?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Minato stared at him blankly, sure he had misheard. “What?”

“That came out faster than – I just mean that I’d like to and I was wondering if it would be a problem if I did.”

The only thing in Minato’s head was the faint, whining drone of nothing. He was vaguely aware of the people around them – not many but even one seemed like a thousand – and some voice told him this was what he had wanted for weeks now, but it was different. It was less than what he had carelessly offered of himself to Souji two weeks ago and yet the emotions behind it made it much more.

Such a tiny thing, but he was so tense as he nodded, unable to speak with Souji turning to lean toward him. That hand touching his cheek – shaking from nerves or caffeine – added to Souji’s smooth voice asking if he was sure, and Minato was nodding again, _this_ close to begging him to please just hurry up.

Their noses bumped accidentally but the way Minato pulled back a little out of surprise turned it into something he had seen people do on TV. The way they would rub their noses together, he never understood the point of it, but now his heart was pounding and he _got_ it, he really did. And Souji laughed a little self-consciously, but then both of his strong and gentle hands were on Minato’s jaw, tilting his head the right way so they fit against one another perfectly.

Against Minato’s, still cold from his ice cream, Souji’s lips were so warm – but brief; he pulled back just when Minato started to melt and left him colder than ever. Minato chased after the warmth and opened himself to it. His kiss was stronger and deeper and tasted of strawberry ice cream and coffee – until Souji made a tiny noise and pushed gently as his shoulders.

“S-sorry,” Souji mumbled, averting his eyes from the sight of Minato wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He was blushing again, Adam’s apple jumping in his throat.

It should’ve been Minato apologizing, the way he had moved too fast and pushed too far, but he stayed silent. His pacing was all messed up. In some ways, this was nothing to him; in other ways, it was everything. He’d gone much farther than a simple kiss but it had meant so little it may as well have been nothing at all. There was so much more behind that kiss that it was overwhelming.

Minato let out a tiny breath and wrapped his arms around his knees.

They really were bad at this.

Or, he thought as Souji leaned comfortably against his shoulder, maybe it was just him.

And maybe, he thought as he rested his head against Souji’s, he could learn. Maybe.

 

* * *

 

Something touched Minato’s hand as he walked toward the school gate and he reflexively jerked it away. Only then did he noticed Souji walking beside him.

“Oh. S-sorry.”

Souji just shrugged. “You didn’t wait for me after class.”

“What? Was I supposed to? Did we have plans?”

“No,” Souji said flatly.

“Then what-? You were talking to Kaz and Kenji, so–”

It took a moment for Minato to get it. This was just about spending time together. Doing things together, even the small things like walking home. The gesture of waiting for him. He’d seen this in movies and stuff. Romance movies, with people in relationships.

Minato watched Souji’s profile, at the golden colour the summer sun was turning his skin. A relationship. Souji was his boyfriend. He’d never had either before and the words had an odd weight to them, even just in his head. He had yet to speak them aloud; it wasn’t like he had anyone to tell. Even the way they’d agreed to do this was without uttering the words. Shortly after their kiss, Souji had jumped to his feet and run off to the bushes, claiming the 50 coffees were shockingly not doing his bladder any favours, and that had just been it. Through some only sort of unspoken acknowledgment, they were now together.

Dating. In a relationship. Boyfriends.

Minato reached over and took Souji’s hand in his.

“Sorry,” he said again. “I should’ve waited for you.”

“No – it’s not that big of a deal,” Souji said, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m just being stupid.”

“Hey, it’s fine, I get it. It won’t happen again, okay?”

Souji looked uncomfortable for a moment, but a shy smile fought its way into his face and he squeezed Minato’s hand.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, look at you.” Minato stood beside Souji, hands in his pockets as they looked up at the exam results. “Top of the class. Nice job.”

That was what he was supposed to say, at least. Not that he cared either way, but it was the polite thing to do. It still came out more sarcastically than he had intended, but Souji didn’t look offended. His eyes started at the top of the list, at his own name, and scanned down. And down. Knowing what he was looking for, Minato pointed somewhere at the lower end of the middle.

“I’m right there.”

“Oh. You did pretty well,” Souji said kindly.

“‘Pretty well,’ he says,” Minato snorted. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I didn’t even try, I don’t care. C’mon, let’s go get something to eat before everything good is sold out.”

Souji grinned, jogging a couple steps to keep up when Minato didn’t bother waiting for him. “Aw. That’s the first time you’ve ever invited me for lunch. It’s usually the other way around.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Minato mumbled, shoving his hands further into his pocket and hunching his shoulders. “We’re obviously going to eat together, so it’s not even that big of a deal…”

Souji just snickered a little teasingly, tugging Minato’s hand out of his pocket to hold it in his. “I take it you’re not going to reward me for doing so well on exams?”

“Why? Were you expecting something?”

“Not at all.”

“Feels like I should be insulted, somehow…”

“No,” Souji said simply. “Everyone else cares so much about my marks but you don’t. It’s another thing I like about you.”

Minato lowered his head so that his bangs would fall in front of his face, a divider between the two of them so Souji wouldn’t see the colour in his cheeks. The only thing it resulted in was him not watching where he was going, therefore walking directly into one of the pillars of Gekkoukan’s lobby.

 

* * *

 

Her name. Souji couldn’t remember this girl’s name. Normally remembering faces and names was one of his strong suits but she just looked like so many other people in the school and he’d been preoccupied when she cornered him. Now he was just annoyed, but he kept that off his face.

He’d been wandering the school, looking for Minato. Despite quitting, Minato had stayed to watch the volleyball team’s last meeting before summer break, but he ended up disappearing by the time Souji came out of the showers. He wasn’t answering his phone, so now Souji had to waste time looking around for him seeing as how they had plans to go out somewhere.

Now here was this girl, trapping him just outside his classroom on the second floor. She was saying something about home economics class or cooking club or something. Holding out a decorative tin and saying she’d be honored if he liked them.

He blinked.

This. He knew what this was now that he thought about it. It had happened before, so he smiled like he did then. Like he knew she wanted him to.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

And she went through the same thing as the last person. Smiled and giggled and blushed, but then turned on her heel and bolted with the strength and speed of an Olympic gold medalist. Souji watched her go until she rounded the corner, then let the smile finally vanish off his face.

Inside the tin was sugar cookies which looked good enough, but were rock hard and didn’t even crack when he knocked one against the wall.

“Gross,” he breathed.

Souji slid open the door to the class and dumped the cookies in the trash just inside the door.

“Wow.”

Souji jumped and whipped around. There was Minato, standing in the middle of the hall with his arms crossed and wearing a smirk.

“You’re mean,” he said, but he only sounded amused.

“You saw that?”

“I saw _everything_.”

Souji just chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know how to react to getting caught doing something so cruel. It was pointless to lie or make up some excuse to Minato of all people – and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Instead of deciding either way he busied himself with putting the tin into his backpack. He’d have to return it to her – but he didn’t even know her name or remember what she looked like. So maybe she would come to him and ask if he liked them. It was all a big fucking hassle.

“Where were you?” Souji asked, only half-heartedly trying to cover his irritation. If Minato hadn’t left the gym, Souji wouldn’t have run into her and this whole thing could’ve been avoided. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Taking a piss.”

“Cute.”

“Yeah.” Minato tilted his head. “Anyway, does this happen to you a lot?”

“Why?” Souji grinned, his brain dressing the opportunity in flashing lights and screaming _deflect, deflect, deflect_. “Are you jealous? You don’t have to be. I threw them out, right?”

Minato shifted and looked a little awkward. Souji felt the relief of success – until he continued with, “Yeah, that’s kind of a shitty thing to do. Should’ve just said no outright. Now she’s gonna think she has a chance.”

Souji just sighed. It was a little terrifying to have someone see through him so well, especially since Minato was doing it with such a bored look on his face. Like it was easy. And if it was that easy, how many other people could see through him? Or were they just not bothering to?

Minato smiled again. Some smug, crooked thing with heavy-lidded eyes. “Be a dick for once in your life. Sometimes it’s kinder.”

 

* * *

 

“How have you been feeling?”

Minato shrugged.

“You’ve noticed no changes? Good or bad?”

Minato shrugged.

They were questions only he could answer but ones he didn’t know the answer to. Ones that couldn’t be put into words – or at least not without a lot of hesitation, self-doubt, ifs, and buts. There were days that were exceptions but for the most part it was like going through life wearing rubber gloves. He could feel things, yes, but there was something missing. If he looked at what he was holding and ran his fingers over the shape of it he could recognize for what it was, but he wasn’t really experiencing it in its entirety. Even if he had once known how it felt, the more time passed, the more he forgot.

In contrast, there were times when the gloves came off and after being so dulled for so long, his senses would be overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of everything. More of those moments lately, with Souji in the picture.

Thinking of him, Minato said, “I think I’m a bit happier lately.”

What he didn’t say was that he didn’t know if it was the pills or an improvement in his general situation. He didn’t say that he couldn’t distinguish himself from the illness anymore, that he didn’t know where it began and he ended, and that he almost missed being ignorant of its existence. Whether he just couldn’t find the words or he just didn’t want to expose himself so much to a stranger, he didn’t know that either.

“That’s good,” the doctor smiled. “So are you okay with increasing the dosage?”

Minato shrugged.

 

* * *

 

As he washed the dishes from breakfast, Souji’s father stood beside him, leaning against the counter and sipping his tea. He reached over and pinched a strand of hair between his fingers. Despite wanting to pull away, Souji gritted his teeth and focused just that much more on scrubbing the pan clean. There was no telling if his father would get angry and offended if he did, so he stayed quiet and listened as he was told how much he needed a haircut.

“I’ll make you an appointment. Then we can finally dye that silly colour out of your hair. Why we even let you do it… Do you remember your uncle Dojima? You look like him during his rebellious phase.”

“I like it,” Souji mumbled.

“It’s probably why you haven’t been able to find a job. Unless you haven’t actually been looking,” he added suspiciously.

“Of course I have.”

Under the pretense of scratching his cheek on his shoulder, Souji was able to twist his hair out from between his father’s fingers. It tugged for only a moment and then he was free.

It was different than when his father had put a hand on his shoulder at the Christmas party. It was different at home, since he wasn’t pretending for anyone. Something about it made it more grating. All Souji knew was that he couldn’t remember the last time his parents had hugged him or told him they loved him, and it was fine that way. Preferable. He didn’t want or need their affection.

Souji placed the last dish in the rack, then turned to his father as he dried his hands off on a towel.

“Um.”

“What?”

He hesitated. The last time he had asked this question, he was in elementary school. There was no way to predict the answer he was about to get.

“I was thinking of inviting my friend over tomorrow. Would – would that be okay?”

He was so tense he could feel it in his back muscles, but his father simply shrugged.

“Do whatever you want,” he said uninterestedly. “You know we’re going out tomorrow. Apartment’s all yours.”

“Right,” Souji said, hanging the dishtowel on the oven’s handle, “yeah.”

Which left him standing there, feeling foolish. All worked up for nothing at all.

They paid for him to do things like dye his hair and they bought him whatever he needed; he never wanted for anything. But then they would turn around and react… like that. They just didn’t. They ignored him. Which was also fine. He couldn’t complain; as long as his marks were good and he did what he was told, he had his every need taken care of.

Souji watched his father walk into the living room where he plopped down on the couch and picked up his novel from the coffee table. Only when Souji retreated to the silence and privacy of his room, feeling the buzz of his phone from one of Minato’s messages, did he feel the tension leave his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Souji was walking a couple steps ahead as Minato squinted at his back, shielding his eyes from the bright sun – until Souji looked over his shoulder at him and smiled. He stopped and waited, taking Minato’s hand as soon as he caught up.

“Are you tired?”

“Always.”

“Would you like a piggyback ride?”

Minato snorted.

“That’s not a no,” Souji teased. “Anyway, we’re almost there.”

He lifted his free hand and Minato followed his pointing finger to an apartment complex just down the street. Not the tallest, but definitely enough to block out a good chunk of the sky. Some stout mammoth of glass and concrete that grew steadily larger as they neared it. Inside wasn’t any homier, with the lobby full of furniture that looked like it had never been used and an overpowering stench of lavender.

The only apartment complex he had lived in had been his aunt’s in Nara, and that had been an old building full of loud families and hallways that always smelled of the various foods cooking in each apartment. This wasn’t anything like that. Pressing himself against the back of the elevator, Minato watched Souji press the button for the 6th floor.

“It’s been so long since I last had anyone over,” Souji said. He turned around as the door slid shut and suddenly the elevator seemed about ten times smaller. Trapped in a small space, the difference in their heights had never felt so vast. “I think the last time I was just a kid. I’m a little nervous.”

Souji didn’t look it, but Minato felt it. He folded his hands behind himself and pressed them between the small of his back and the wall.

They weren’t in the same boat really, but they could see one another’s across the stormy sea. The last time someone had invited Minato over had been just a month or so before he met Souji, but it wasn’t for hanging out. That had been the pretense but they both knew why they were really there. This was different. From his understanding of relationships, it should’ve been the same but it wasn’t. Souji didn’t seem to want _that_ from him.

As Souji looked over his shoulder at the numbers above the elevator door, Minato looked at the muscles in his neck and the line of his jaw. The collarbone just visible beneath the v-neck of his shirt. Souji had invited him over to (actually) hang out, but the truth was Minato didn’t even know what that entailed. What did friends do when they hung out? What did people in a relationship do when they hung out? Was there a difference between the two?

Then the doors opened with a ding and Souji reached a hand toward him, which he took without hesitation.

It was a bit odd, but it seemed like the closer they got to Souji’s home, the less homey it felt, which just lead to the apartment itself. When Minato walked through the door, he found nothing but stark and blinding white. White walls, white furniture, white curtains. Everything was clean and modern, sharp and angular lines that looked like something out a design magazine. The only bursts of colour were the plants in vases and pots here and there. There weren’t even any pictures anywhere.

“What do you think?”

The honest answer was that it reminded him of the hospital room he’d woken up in after his parents’ accident, but the only thing that came out was a blunt, “It’s unsettling,” and Souji just laughed.

“Is your aunt’s place so different? Any of them?”

“There are pictures, for one,” Minato said with a gesture to the bare walls. “Even if they’re just the pictures that came with the frames.”

“Yeah, well… The more you own, the more you have to pack.”

Minato met Souji’s eyes, but the latter just shrugged.

“C’mon. My room’s this way.”

Down the hall to the right, first door on the left, and Souji led them into a small room packed with stuff. The only thing Minato could think was just how like Souji it was. Everything was kept neat but there was just so much of it. A calmness with an underlying chaos. Shelves packed with books – manga and novels and textbooks – or lined with model robots and mecha suits. Several generations of gaming consoles sat next to a TV and there was an expensive-looking laptop sitting on the desk in the corner – Minato could’ve happily lived in this room and never left.

“You’re smiling. Do you like it?”

Minato hid his mouth behind his hand.

“I guess,” he said in a voice of forced indifference.

Souji walked by him and sat on the edge of his bed. A single on just a metal frame. No headboard or footboard and white sheets. “It’s your turn next, you know. You have to invite me over so I can see your room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Souji smiled and held out a hand. “Come here.”

And Minato obeyed without even considering otherwise because this was it, he thought. Finally, they were moving to familiar territory. But when Souji took his hand and Minato sat beside him, all that happened was they fell backwards onto the bed and Souji gathered him up in his arms, holding him close. All that happened was nothing at all.

With his head tucked under Souji’s chin, Minato was pressed so close to him that his nose was smooshed to the side against his collarbone and if he opened his eyes, all he could see was Souji’s neck. There were arms wrapped around him and fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck while his own were folded awkwardly against his chest. It was so warm against the dry, air conditioned apartment.

It did feel good. Minato could recognize that, but he kept thinking it wasn’t enough. Souji must’ve been bored. As happy as Minato would’ve been to just stay there and sleep, Souji wouldn’t invite him over just for that. Who would? Minato didn’t know much, but he knew the point of hanging out was to do fun things together.

Minato raised his head and laid a hand against Souji’s chest, but just ended up staring at his face. Eyes closed and lips parted like he was sleeping, until he blinked and gazed blearily at Minato.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Minato shook his head.

“Is everything okay?”

For an answer, Minato leaned forward and kissed him, sliding the hand on Souji’s chest down and around his waist. Souji returned the kiss for a brief moment before pulling away and resting his head on the pillow, closing his eyes again. Minato stared at him, unsure of what to make of it. Was that a rejection? Or did he just not understand what Minato was getting at?

Something like fear pounded in his chest as Minato leaned in again, kissing him a little more intently. Running his tongue along Souji’s bottom lip as he sucked and nibbled it, there was no way Souji would misunderstand – and Minato knew he got it as soon as he heard the tiny moan in the back of Souji’s throat.

But then Souji pulled away again.

“I, uh…” Looking to the side at the pillow beneath his head. “I’m not… I just want to lie down for now.”

Minato couldn’t help the frown that appeared on his face, nor the angry tone in his voice when he demanded, “Why?”

“Is that weird?”

“Is it -? I don’t know! Why don’t you wanna do anything?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…”

Minato propped himself up on his elbow and stared at him, lips parted and teeth clenched. Since they started going out, all Souji had done was held his hand and kissed him – most of the time on the cheek, forehead, or nose. A couple times on the hand. Only on the lips when they were saying goodbye.

“Is it me? Do I gross you out or something?”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?” Souji said immediately. “I’m just… I’m not ready to move any faster than this. I’ve never…”

“But – but then why are we here? Just lying here. I don’t get it.”

“I just like relaxing with you. Why, are you bored? Do you want to watch a movie?”

“No that’s not – you don’t get it,” Minato snapped, irrationally wound up. Souji sighed and reached up to cup his cheek in his hand. It seemed ill-timed but he didn’t pull away from it. “Look, I don’t have anything else to offer you. I’m not funny and I’m not interesting, there’s no reason for you to just… be happy like this. I don’t get it.”

“You are,” Souji said, looking genuinely confused.

“I’m _not_ , I’m – there’s nothing inside me. I’ve given you no reason to be so nice to me – I can’t give you –”

“Hey.”

The hand on his cheek slid down and back where it cupped Minato’s neck and tugged him gently down. All urge to fight it left him in a breath and he closed his eyes, feeling the soft sheets against his head. The hand traced its way up the side of his head, combing its fingers through his bangs and brushing them back, off his face. Having his whole face showing only made him feel more exposed and uncomfortable but when Souji’s lips pressed against his, he found he didn’t mind so much.

“Just being with you makes me happy,” Souji mumbled, resting his forehead against Minato’s.

Minato shook his head, about to disagree – to tell him about the diagnosis and how it was a medical, scientific fact that he was broken and empty – but the way it caused their noses to rub together distracted him a little. Like their first kiss. Then he was just squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing hard, holding his breath and waiting for the feeling to pass. It would, eventually. It had to.

 

* * *

 

As promised, next was Minato’s turn. Souji looked all around the house as Minato lead him upstairs, thinking about how you could tell his aunt didn’t move as much as the two of them did. Everything was still as expensive and tasteful as one would expect from a woman in her position, but it felt more like a home rather than just a house. There were these little personal touches everywhere. Like in the kitchen, there had been a corkboard with various notes and pictures tacked onto it. None of Minato, but ones of his aunt and her friends.

“I haven’t cleaned in a long time,” Minato said as they walked down the hall, “so… y’know…”

Souji laughed as soon as Minato opened the door because no, he definitely hadn’t.

There were clothes strewn across nearly every surface and what wasn’t covered in clothes was covered in empty food and drink containers. The bed was unmade and full of crumbs. There were still unpacked cardboard boxes sitting by the wall, opened just to get at whatever was needed from them and then left alone. The whole thing smelled a little musky, and not really in a good way.

Souji walked slowly around the room. He passed an entire shelving unit stuffed with DVDs, not arranged any particular way as far as he could see, and stopped at the dresser. On top of it sat a camera. An expensive one, with a lens and everything. “You’re a photographer?”

“Giving it a title sounds a little too… I just take pictures. I dunno much about composition or anything.”

Souji reached for it and turned it on, flipping through the pictures stored in the gallery. Like he said, most were taken of nothing in particular. A couple sunsets and sunrises, dogs and cats and birds, empty city streets, and that was it. No people. No friends or family. He replaced the camera on the dresser and kept browsing.

“I didn’t know you were such a snoop,” Minato teased from his seat on the bed.

“It’s my chance to learn more about you. You don’t exactly make it easy.”

“Coming from you.”

Souji stopped by the bedside table. He could feel Minato’s eyes on him as he reached for the pill bottle. When he turned it over in his hand to get a better look at the label, the sound of the pills rattling was the only noise in the room, and when he finally lifted his eyes to Minato’s, he was staring back with a jaded look on his face.

“I was considering hiding those,” he admitted, “but I guess I was half-hoping you’d see them. Didn’t know how else to bring it up.”

“You have depression,” Souji stated, and Minato nodded. Souji put the pills down and sat beside him on the bed. The way the mattress shifted beneath him tilted Minato to the side, bumping their shoulders against one another. “I don’t know much about it, honestly. Would – would you like to talk about it?”

“What? No. Why? I mean – thanks, but… there’s nothing to say. I just thought you should know. It explains a bit about… why I’m like this.”

There was a self-deprecating tone in his voice that Souji didn’t miss. Unsure of what exactly to respond with, he took Minato’s hand and laid back against the bed. A single tug on his hand and Minato turned around, crawling along the bed to flop down half on top of him. He rested his head against Souji’s chest and tangled their legs together.

“If you ever do want to talk, I’ll listen,” Souji told him. It was something he told to a lot of people, but this was different somehow. This time he truly cared about what he was hearing, rather than just treating it like some interesting story that didn’t really affect him. This time, he would give back instead of just taking. “I promise.”

He rested a hand against Minato’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. The only answer he got was some vague noise in the back of Minato’s throat as he snaked his arms around Souji’s waist, under the space the curve of his spine provided.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” Minato murmured. “I can hear it. How embarrassing for you.”

“I know. Hard to act all stoic and cool if it’s going to keep giving me away like that.”

The cheek under Souji’s hand moved with a smile. He closed his eyes and focused on the way Minato felt above him. Slowly, he was getting used to all the physical contact but it was still so strange. The weight of another person and just how solid and real he was. His breathing and his heartbeat. It was odd to touch skin and not feel it two ways.

“Souji,” Minato said softly. His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke; another thing Souji could feel. “You too. If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen too. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Minato’s hand touched the back of his and he turned his head to press a kiss to Souji’s palm. “Good. It’s a promise. Don’t forget.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [two](http://undead-cypress.tumblr.com/post/135269164849) [more](http://autovaille.tumblr.com/post/135425783369)!! thank you guys so much?? holy shit
> 
> eta: i just noticed the timing in this chapter is fucky. like it jumps from 6pm to midnight. whatever!! i'm so sleepy who cares

“What happened?”

_“Nothing.”_

Yosuke stopped at the top of the small slope just down the road from Dojima’s place, heart racing a little from the sprint up it, trying to get away from the house as quickly and quietly as possible. He looked over his shoulder. Souji was standing where he had been crouched before, looking down at something in his hand.

 _“Let’s go,”_ Minato said.

Yosuke didn’t move.

“What did you do?” he asked quietly. He couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling pounding in his chest but the cat was gone and Souji was still just standing there, which begged the question of what he was doing and just what the hell Minato had done to keep him there. What _could_ Minato have done, unable to be seen or heard and armed with only a stone?

 _“Nothing. Ghost shit, like we planned. He’s just a little freaked out – anyone would be, seeing things move, right?”_ Minato took a couple steps backwards down the road, holding his arms out and shrugging nonchalantly. _“In hindsight, it was a pretty bad plan. Most people would run inside and hide if they saw stuff start moving. We just counted on the fact Souji’s naturally curious and not easily frightened. But it still worked, so we should take advantage and **get the hell out of here**.”_

The amount Minato was talking could’ve been either a good sign or a very bad one. With one final look at Souji, Yosuke started walking. The last thing he saw before his line of sight was obscured by the house on the corner was Souji turning around and heading home.

 

* * *

“You’re a pretty weird kid,” Adachi told him, groaning as he placed another cardboard box onto the apartment floor, “you know that?”

Souji looked up at him as he bent to place his own box beside Adachi’s. “Am I?”

“You were living rent-free but you chose to give it up. Now you’re gonna have nothing but bills to pay. You in that much of a rush to grow up? It’s not that great.”

From somewhere outside the open front door, Souji could hear Dojima calling out to Nanako and the closing of the car door. These were the last couple boxes. Maybe they’d offer to help unpack, maybe not, but either way Souji would turn them down and insist they go home. It was a long day, Nanako would be tired.

“I’ll be 19 this year,” Souji said. “Besides, it’s easier this way.”

Adachi stared at him for a moment, goofy grin faltering only slightly. Then he turned and headed for the door.

“Sure, kid.”

 

* * *

The moment the clocks ticked midnight and the calendars switched to February, Souji was on his new futon in his new apartment. Lying on his stomach and staring at the wall with his earphones in, listening to whatever came on shuffle. His first night living on his own. A special occasion.

The TV Dojima had insisted he take was opposite him, powered off and just barely showing his reflection by the highlights of the moon. There was no cable set up yet and it was doubtful there ever would be. If he so cared, he still had countless DVDs to watch, packed away in those boxes in the corner. At the moment they were only reminding him he still had to make arrangements to get the rest of his stuff from his parents’ place.

Souji sighed and rolled over, switching songs.

His cheap and obsolete MP3 player was full of bands he could never remember the names of. Music suggested by countless people over the years, all telling him ‘I think you’d like this.’ Every friend group had one person too into music, eager to suggest their favourites and Souji was the perfect person for them. Now he had a tiny device full of what people thought of him. A lot of it was soft and acoustic or smooth and electronic, some with a catchy beat but still nothing too heavy.  

The heaviest and most frantic of it all had been left by Minato, like the one that was playing right then. Some groove-heavy song. One of many Minato had suggested after Souji said something about liking the bass as an instrument and idly thinking it would be nice to know how to play.

Minato had always used terms like ‘lo-fi stoner doom’ and ‘third wave post-minimalist ska,’ and Souji could never tell which were real terms and which were Minato talking out his ass just to tease him. Both were entirely possible.

The band playing, he couldn’t remember what Minato had called them anymore. At the thought, Souji closed his eyes. He let his hand slide underneath his shirt, tracing a line up and down his side. The ribs and the slight dip of his waist, the point of his hip bone – it really was different having someone else touch you. This didn’t compare at all.

A light shone through his lids and he opened his eyes. His phone was beside his pillow, sitting on the charger and blinking with a new message. Even before he looked, he knew who it was. Only one person would be messaging him at this time.

>hey dude just wanted to say congrats on the apartment… hope ur doing ok…

Souji almost laughed. No typos, which meant Yosuke had taken his time to type and probably read it over and over and over before sending it. The ellipses were a nice touch. A conscious decision to show he was feeling a little awkward without a word. A way to let Souji know he was aware of the distance between them lately. Hesitant and not willing to push it, but still willing to be friendly. He really was sweet.

Souji clenched his jaw and hated himself for missing him. It was all Yosuke’s fault.

Not even a year after his boyfriend passed away and Yosuke started sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. Upsetting everything Souji was working on keeping neatly packed away because no one wanted to hear about it. Yosuke could claim to all he wanted, but if he knew about what Souji was keeping hidden away, there was no way he would still want to be around him.

What people always liked about those who suffer silently is the fact that it’s _silent_. They liked when those in mourning carried on their day-to-day lives. Brave, they called it, when what they really meant was convenient. They could console the person, call them strong, and move on unaffected. Maybe feel a little proud of themselves for being good and kind.

If Yosuke would’ve just been one of them, then it would be so much easier. If he would just be happy with superficial, fake, passive, obedient Souji then everything would’ve been fine but he kept trying to dig for harsh, ugly truths. Looking for friendship Souji wasn’t capable of anymore.

Opening up old scars, digging at wounds that had already healed over, and now Souji was seeing signs that weren’t there. Getting confused by a single word out of place, wondering if he did actually say ‘passed away,’ or did he let slip that everyone kept trying to get him to believe it was suicide? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t trust his own memories. Rubbed raw, left  exposed, and suddenly a misplaced camera lost in the haze of packing for yet another move meant he was believing in ghosts instead of accepting that Minato was gone.

It was all Yosuke’s fault. It was all Minato’s fault. It was all Souji’s fault for getting involved with either of them.

All that shit about ‘enjoying listening to people’ and look where it got him. He never learned his lesson. He kept redrawing the dividing line a little closer every time, telling himself it was fine, he could handle it, but in the end he wasn’t strong enough to keep them at a distance. The alternative was to be completely alone, which he had feared for so long, but could it be that much worse than this?

Still…

Souji stared at his phone. Opened a reply. Closed the reply. Opened the reply.

>Thank you.

He hesitated.

>Would you like to come see it sometime?

 

* * *

“Here.”

Souji looked down. Yosuke was handing him a can opener.

“It’s – it’s a housewarming gift,” he said with an astonishing amount of false confidence. Only then did he notice he forgot to remove the price tag, which he quickly ripped off. “Uhh… oops, ha ha. Bought it on my way over. I know the traditional thing is, like, sake or something. I figured you’d actually get some use out of this instead of just getting wasted, although now that I’m saying this I’m kind of wishing I’d got the sake because I could really go for being drunk right now.”

Yosuke laughed awkwardly as Souji took the gift.

“Thank you. I needed one of these.”

Yosuke tapped his temple. “Ah ha! It’s like I knew that.”

As he went to sit on the futon, shedding his jacket and tossing it unceremoniously aside, Souji walked into the kitchen and put the can opener in the drawer. Right next to the one he already owned. A pink one that Nanako picked out for him.

He called it a kitchen but it was just a bit of counter space in the corner. A tiny stove and a tiny fridge in the tiny main room which counted as his living room, bedroom, and kitchen all in one. The only thing that was separate was the tiny bathroom.

Yosuke looked around at it all, crossing his arms and legs. Souji leaned against the counter and watched him. It had been a long time since they last saw one another; the better part of January. For the first time in a long time, Souji didn’t know how to act. He was happy to see Yosuke again, glad they were hanging out, but it was only making him feel guilty.

He should smile, at least. Yosuke would like that. Or would he? Would Souji be called fake again? This was all so much more difficult than it should’ve been.

Souji sighed. He crossed the room and sat beside Yosuke on the futon. A little closer than he had intended, but feeling his arm press against his was kind of nice.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” he said bluntly. A lie or not, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Yosuke was tightening his arms around himself and turning his head away, but not enough to hide the colour in his cheeks. “I’m just kind of messed up lately.”

That was true, at least.

“Well… like I said, I know you’re going through a lot,” Yosuke mumbled, watching his stockinged foot bounce along to some rhythm in his head.

Souji leaned his head against the back of the futon and stared over at him. Late afternoon sunlight was filtering through the window behind them, dappled from the tree just outside and shining on his tawny hair. Despite being bleached and dyed from black, it looked soft. He must’ve taken good care of it. Moisturizing masks and the like. That would be like him – not that he would ever admit to it.

From there, Souji’s eyes trailed to the shell of his ear, just barely visible. He couldn’t see it from that angle, but he knew there was an old scar from a healed piercing on the lobe. He’d noticed it a while back. His jaw, his lips, the gentle slope of his nose – Souji stared at it all and if Yosuke noticed, he didn’t mention it.

“This place is kind of boring,” Souji said, and Yosuke turned to look at him. “Sorry. Nothing’s really unpacked. We could go somewhere, if you want.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” Souji sighed a little irritably, rubbing a hand over his face. He closed his eyes, feeling the sunlight shining down on him too.

“You seem tired,” Yosuke said, and Souji wondered if that was a nice way to say grouchy.

“Mhm. I’m working fulltime now,” Souji gestured to the coffee table and the books and papers scattered across it, “and I picked up translating, too.”

“Then – do you wanna just watch a movie and relax?”

“Sure,” Souji said, getting to his feet. “The DVD player’s not hooked up, but that won’t take long. I know which box it’s in.”

“Alright.”

Yosuke just sat there as Souji set everything up. It took longer than he expected because he kept looking over his shoulder, watching Yosuke talk about how he went to lunch with his mother. He looked happy, very at ease. It was good to see.

“You’re pretty close with your parents,” Souji said.

“Yeah, we always have been. Things were kind of rough just after we moved to Inaba, but that was probably just because of me being… me. Then my mom had her operation and it just kind of hit me that they won’t be here one day and… I dunno… It’s weird when you notice your parents getting older.”

Souji thought of the grey streak by his father’s temple that he noticed last he saw them. Which had been so long ago. In the time they’d been apart, his father’s vanity had probably prompted him to dye it and whatever others had popped up.

“Oh. Sorry,” Yosuke said. “I guess you don’t really get along with your parents, do you?”

“When did I say that?”

“Well, I can put two and two together from context, Souji,” Yosuke snorted. “You remember that time you told me to just ignore the call from your mom? I was bugging you about opening up more and you were all ‘the only thing you need to know about them is that they left me behind.’ And man, the look on your face when you said that? Then just the fact they left after… after everything. I dunno. It’s pretty obvious. Everyone always seems to think so, but I’m not _that_ stupid.”

Souji stared at him and Yosuke shrugged.

There was that feeling again. The one of being under a microscope. Yosuke was the second person to make him feel this way. It made him feel… something. He didn’t know anymore. Good or bad, he didn’t know a goddamn thing anymore.

With one final plug from the A/V cable, the DVD player was hooked up and Souji got to his feet, dusting his hands off. Then he just stared at Yosuke some more.

The latter frowned back. “What?”

“I’m unfolding the futon.”

“What?”

“I want to lie down,” Souji said. He pointed to the futon. “I’m going to put the back down.”

“Uh –”

“You can join me if you want but if you think it’s too weird, then I don’t blame you. But you should know that I don’t find it weird.”

“Uh…”

Without waiting for a response, Souji walked to the side of the futon and pushed the back of it forward until it clicked, then lowered it back down. When he returned from getting his pillows and blankets from the closet, Yosuke was still sitting in the same spot. He didn’t move when Souji carelessly tossed the blankets onto the bed, nor when he flopped down behind him.

“You can put in whatever movie you want,” Souji said, rolling onto his side. “They’re in those boxes beside the TV stand.”

“Okay…”

The mattress shifted when Yosuke got to his feet. It was just some cheap, uncomfortable piece of foam. It had him missing the futon at Dojima’s. Even his bed back in Iwatodai – which he parents would probably be getting rid of when they got back. Less stuff for them to lug around when they moved next. How convenient for them.

Yosuke returned to the bed and perched on the very edge of it, even further away than he had been before. Back slouched and hands fidgeting in his lap, it couldn’t have been very comfortable. By the time the opening scene of the movie started – some cliché thriller with a man out for revenge – Yosuke was already rubbing and arching his sore back until it cracked.

“Yosuke.”

He looked over his shoulder and Souji held back the blankets.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

He hesitated for only a moment before swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head atop the pillows, keeping enough distance between the two of them that no part touched. Which was fine. The invitation wasn’t to cuddle. They were just lying down because it was more comfortable and now that Souji had a western futon instead of Dojima’s couch, it was possible for both of them.

All Souji could see of Yosuke was the back of his head, which he started staring at again. The curve of his ear, the nape of his neck, and his soft-looking hair. It was far more interesting than the movie, which had the same plot and stale dialogue as several hundred others. He wasn’t even sure why Minato had wasted money on it, but Minato had spent an inordinate amount of money on his collection. ‘I’m trying to fill the gaping void in my soul with material possessions,’ he’d once joked in monotone, and Souji knew him well enough to know it wasn’t entirely in jest.

“This movie sucks,” Yosuke said.

“Yep.”

“I thought I remembered it being better than this. A guy I like does the soundtrack, but… it’s not really worth this.”

“Put something else on.”

The scene changed. Some unnecessarily graphic sex scene and Yosuke made a small noise of recognition. “Oh. That’s why I remember liking this movie.”

Souji laughed and pushed at his back. “Go put something else in!”

“No, just… wait until this is done.”

Souji sighed and let his hand fall to the mattress. It was still touching Yosuke’s back and he could feel the way he shifted when the female lead started making a big show of her orgasm. Only when she was screaming in the corner, clutching a blanket to her naked chest while the hero brutally slaughtered the assassins who interrupted them did Yosuke get to his feet.

“What d’you wanna watch?”

“Surprise me.”

“Ugh.” Yosuke covered his eyes and plunged a hand into the box, pulling out at random - a romantic comedy. He laughed. “Why does he have -? I mean… what – what kind of person was he? To own all these movies?”

Yosuke put the movie in and grabbed the remote before returning to the bed, lying down without hesitation this time. A little closer than before. Staring at the spot between his shoulderblades, Souji said, “He was… a lot of things.”

Movie already forgotten, Yosuke rolled onto his back and looked at him. “Tell me about him.”

Souji averted his eyes and a long silence passed. Yosuke rolled to face him, bringing him just that much closer. All hesitance apparently gone.

“Hey, c’mon, it might make you feel better. You haven’t really talked to anyone since it happened, right? It’s not good to bottle everything up. I’m your friend, man, trust me a little.”

One of things Souji feared most was staring at him with warm brown eyes. Gentle eyes. Souji looked down, but that just brought his eyes to the collarbone he could see underneath Yosuke’s v-neck. The throat moving with a swallow. The lips parted in concentration, and then Souji was right back to looking into his eyes again.

“I can’t sum someone up in a few words. Least of all him,” Souji mumbled, letting his gaze rove past Yosuke. He focused on the TV, showing him a kind but clumsy girl from the countryside getting used to her life in the big city. “If you’re so good at putting two and two together from context, take what you know and use that.”

“C’mon…”

“I still don’t know what you want me to say.” Echoing the past, Souji said, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Yosuke stared at him. “I just want you to be real with me.”

The clumsy girl slipped and was helped to her feet by her handsome best friend who she would realize she had feelings for only after the cruel love interest mistreated her. It was all very predictable.

Souji closed his eyes.

From what he could see, he had two options.

The first was to make himself vulnerable and let this boy continue to reopen wounds he knew hadn’t healed properly, but they were wounds he had stitched up on his own using whatever tools he could get his hands on. Bleeding and abandoned, he did the best he could. The first option was the emotional equivalent of rebreaking a bone to let it set properly.

The second was to reject Yosuke – yet again – and set himself down the path to well and truly being alone. They were already on rocky terms with Souji being so distant and there was only so far this could go before it snapped. Denying Yosuke one more time would surely lose him his only friend.

Both hurt. It would be so much easier to go back to his simple, unfeeling life of doing whatever his parents told him to do. A robotic day in, day out, deadened existence.

“Soft.”

Souji opened his eyes and stared at some random point on Yosuke’s shoulder.

“He tried to be hard but he was always soft,” Souji said. “But he was resilient. Faithless – in himself, in everything. But kind. Funny. Honest. Sometimes to the point of being a real asshole,” he laughed a little and it wavered, weak with nothing behind it. “Always gentle. Rarely angry, but often anxious and that made him lash out like he was. Easygoing and open-minded. He was… just… everything. He was more than he thought he was.”

“He sounds like a good guy.”

“He was. You would’ve liked him,” Souji said. “He was like you, always listening to music. Could never hear a thing with his headphones on.”

Souji paused, aware of Yosuke watching him and how close he was laying. Shadows cast by the tree outside were swaying across his shoulder as Souji watched, almost hypnotized. He shifted his legs a little and they bumped into Yosuke’s.

“He was always taking pictures,” Souji said, and he made Ls with the indexes and thumbs of both hands. Closing one eye, he held them up like a camera lens and peered through them into Yosuke’s watchful eyes. “I didn’t find out about it for a while. I think he was shy doing it in front of people. He stopped caring after a while, though. Took pictures of everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Souji let his hands fall, curled into loose fists against his pillow. “I think… since he wasn’t good at expressing himself, pictures were a way for him to… I don’t know, keep the things he liked close. Even the little things. _Especially_ the little things. With him being the way he was, he needed something to remind him that things weren’t always so –”

Souji stopped himself. Swallowed hard and took a deep breath. The only noise was outside. Birds and kids playing in the street, but so far away it may as well not have been there at all. Souji closed his eyes, but he could feel Yosuke watching him.

“Souji,” he said, “for what it’s worth… I think that – I know he’d be here if he could.”

Souji didn’t move, didn’t make any acknowledgment that he’d heard.

For a while.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

Yosuke woke slowly. His eyes blinked open and then he was looking at some place unfamiliar, vaguely disoriented. It took him a moment, but he remembered he was lying down on an uncomfortable futon – Souji’s futon, under a blanket or two – but it was dark. The TV and DVD player were both off. He couldn’t even remember watching the movie, let alone falling asleep.

Stretching his legs out straight, Yosuke became aware of a small weight on his waist. He reached down to touch it, pulling away as soon as he felt skin. It was Souji’s arm. Not really holding him, but just kind of draped over, hand curled loosely against the mattress. Looking behind him, he finally realized how close Souji was, sleeping with his head resting against the back of Yosuke’s shoulders. It was an accident, it had to be. Falling asleep in the same bed and waking up cuddling was totally a thing that realistically happened, right? Even with the way his ex had told him he kicks and tosses about in his sleep?

Slowly, cautiously, Yosuke tried to slide out from underneath Souji’s arm without waking him, but he was already so close to the edge and Souji’s arm was so long that this only resulted in him sort of ungracefully lowering himself to the floor. Souji sniffed and rolled onto his back, resting his hand on his stomach, as Yosuke got to his feet.

As he reached for his coat, a voice made him jump.

“Going home?”

Souji was gazing at him through barely opened eyes.

“Y- uh, yeah. It’s late – I think. Actually – I dunno what time it is.”

“It’s only six,” Souji said, checking his watch. “The days are still pretty short. Anyway, you can spend the night, if you want. Seeing as how it’s been a while since we hung out.”

“I, uh…” Yosuke faltered, thinking of the feeling of Souji’s arm around him. If he stayed, maybe something like that would happen again. Accidentally, of course. It was tempting – really tempting, and Yosuke dealt with this by forcing an awkward laugh. “Don’t want me to leave, huh?”

Souji just smiled.

He wondered if he shouldn’t. Souji was in a bad place, emotionally vulnerable, and for all the eagerness Yosuke shown in the beginning, he hadn’t known it was less than a year since Minato’s death when he put these ideas into his own head. Now he knew so he was doing his best not to think about his feelings at all and it was pretty goddamn difficult. Spending the night together in the same bed, even if they were on opposite sides, not touching at all, wasn’t going to make that any easier.

Not that that what Souji was offering was cuddling, regardless. They were just sharing a bed, not spooning in the nude. Which just brought forth some other thoughts Yosuke would have to suppress.

“Mm… no,” he said. Regretting it and a little proud of himself all at once. “No, I don’t think… I sh-should…”

But Souji’s face was falling. Which was the kinder answer? To leave him alone? Or was it really just taking advantage?

“Or… I could stay?” Yosuke said slowly. “I guess it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not working tomorrow.”

Souji smiled again.

“I’m not working either. We should go somewhere.” Souji pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes. “Here, I’ll get you some pajamas.”

He got to his feet, passing by Yosuke rather close and smiling kindly at him, which Yosuke returned with ease.

 

* * *

Souji woke with a jolt. The sensation of falling and at the moment of impact he was looking at Yosuke’s sleeping face.

He pressed a hand to his eye and tried to slow the beating of his heart, reaching out with all his senses to reassure himself that he hadn’t just plummeted from a great height and that he was, in fact, in his warm and dark apartment. It was shortly after midnight, according to his wristwatch. It had only been just under an hour since they bathed and got ready for bed.

Souji lowered his hand. Yosuke was close, but far enough that no part of them was touching. His hair was messed up, falling over his eyes. Souji reached over and – hesitated.

Even though he knew better, he reached over and brushed the hair out of Yosuke’s eyes. When Yosuke didn’t move, he let his hand comb through it. He’d been right earlier; it was soft. Softer than Minato’s. His had been coarser, thick and wavy in a way that it never lay flat, especially not with that cowlick on the back of his head. Both were nice in their ways.

Souji folded his hands under his pillow as his eyes roved down to where he estimated Yosuke’s feet to be beneath the blankets. It couldn’t have been more than five centimetres, but Yosuke was taller than Minato had been. Not that any of this mattered, but he had no one else to compare to. It was neat to see the ways people varied and how just five centimetres could seem like so much.

Yosuke inhaled deeply and stretched his legs, groaning dramatically. His eyes fluttered open and after a bit of searching, found Souji’s with a clarity that didn’t suit someone that had just woken up. Souji’s heart gave a tiny jump; there was no way that acting was natural. How long had Yosuke actually been awake? Awake and feeling Souji play with his hair while he just enjoyed it.

“Hey. Can’t sleep?”

Souji shook his head.

“Music helps when I can’t sleep,” Yosuke offered. “I brought my MP3 player, if you…?”

“It’s okay; you can use it. I have my own.”

For some reason, Yosuke perked up at this. “Wait, really? I’ve never seen you listening to it. Show me, I wanna see what stuff you like! You said you don’t even have a favourite band or anything.”

Souji stared at him for a moment before pushing himself up onto his knees. He grabbed the MP3 player from where he kept it on the windowsill, earphones wrapped neatly around it, and handed it to Yosuke. He turned it on and began flipping through it while Souji laid back down, the blue screen reflecting twice in his eyes.

“This is all pretty good. I’ve never met anyone else that listens to half these bands.”

“I – I don’t. I mean, they were all suggested by people I used to know,” Souji said. It felt wrong to take credit for it.

“Oh! I listen to these guys all the time,” Yosuke said. He unwrapped the earphones and put one in his own, then held the other out to Souji. “They’re good for sleeping. Sort of, I guess. They’re good, either way.”

Souji put the earphone in and heard a song he was familiar with. The name of the band was escaping him, but he recognized the gentle music and effortlessly soft vocals. Yosuke was watching him closely, probably waiting for a reaction.

“Good choice,” Souji said, and Yosuke grinned proudly.

“I know, right? They’re good.”

Souji closed his eyes and tried to focus on the music, but he couldn’t stop being aware of Yosuke’s presence. The bed shifted with his slightest movement and being Yosuke, there were a lot of them.

“Do you usually have trouble sleeping?”

Souji shook his head. “No, but the music’s helping. Thank you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no problem, man.”

He opened his eyes again, but Yosuke was too busy looking through the music to pay much mind to the way Souji was staring at him.

Everyone else was gone. Gone of their own volition or pushed away by Souji’s, and only Yosuke remained. For some reason he just wouldn’t leave Souji alone, and alone really was the only thing waiting for him if things kept on this way. The thing he feared most loomed under him as he walked along a tightrope and only Yosuke was guiding him forward. And in his own ways, Yosuke was just as terrifying.

“Soundtracks are best for sleeping, but you don’t have any on here. I got a bunch I could recommend, if you’re interested. Just off the top of my head, I already know a couple you would like. I think…”

“Yosuke.”

He looked up and simple as anything, Souji leaned toward him. Time was moving slowly enough that he could see the thought process on Yosuke’s face; the numbness, realization, and now the shock. His lips parted out of surprise or expectation, but he was frozen. Those big brown eyes looked frightened as if Souji, so worn thin and tired, was anything to fear.

When Yosuke didn’t meet him halfway, Souji wondered if this was another way for Yosuke to drag him forward. If it was, it wasn’t fair.

Souji reached over, cupping the back of Yosuke’s neck in his hand. Instead of letting Yosuke drag him forward, he coaxed Yosuke to him, his hand applying only the slightest pressure. That first kiss was quick, as innocent as it could’ve been, with their lips meeting perfectly and parting with a small noise that had Yosuke looking embarrassed but not entirely displeased. Souji gave him no time and moved in for a second. Another and another, each lasting a heartbeat longer than the last and ending in small breaths.

After so long, it was beyond words to finally feel someone else. He used to be so uncomfortable with physical contact and he thought he was okay without it but now, _God,_ he missed it. It wasn’t enough to throw an arm over Yosuke’s waist while they slept and act like it was an accident. He needed more. He took everything in; Yosuke’s hair between his fingers, his lips, the teeth beyond, and the soft tongue meeting his. There was just barely a taste of mint toothpaste and he remembered, briefly, strawberry ice cream, and then Yosuke’s hand was on his shoulder but it wasn’t gentle. It curled its fingers, pushing him away. Souji barely caught a glimpse of Yosuke’s wide-eyed horror before he ripped out the earphone and jumped out of the bed.

“O-okay,” he breathed, backing away and laughing nervously. He stared at the floor, wringing his hands. “Okay. That – that was my fault.”

Souji sat up, ignoring the chill as soon as the blankets fell from his shoulder.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

“‘Let me,’” Souji repeated slowly. His heart was racing, leftover from the kiss but now twisting into something darker. “I’m pretty sure I can make my own decisions, Yosuke,” he said coolly.

“No, I’m not saying – it’s just that I – you – _we_ shouldn’t have done that. There are… things? – things going on that make this… not good.”

“What are you talking about? It’s fine.”

“N-no? No, it’s really not.” Yosuke laughed again, scratching the back of his head and still not looking at Souji. “Look – I’m sorry, okay? You’re in a bad headspace lately and I totally took advantage of that. This was my bad. It hasn’t even been a year since… since… you know… so… you’re pretty messed up. And – actually, in March it’ll be –”

Souji climbed out of bed, which was enough to get Yosuke to stop rambling and look at him.

“ _That’s_ what this is about?”

Yosuke sighed and looked off to the side. There was no trace of a smile on his face, forced or otherwise.

“Don’t treat me like that,” Souji said. “I’m not a child.”

“Wow,” Yosuke sighed miserably, “you sound just like… Look, I’m not. You’re my friend, I’m trying to watch out for you.”

Souji stared at him, his head full of overwhelming white noise. Everything had taken several sharp turns and he was still reeling.

“You’re right,” Souji said, and Yosuke looked at him, surprised; “it has been almost a year – and that’s precisely why I don’t need you patronizing me. I’ve been handling this just fine on my own.”

“We’re _friends,_ you idiot! I’m not looking down on you, I’m trying to help you through this as equals. Why is that so hard for you to get?”

“You’re a year too late.” Something was building, pushing its way up from Souji’s chest, and for a moment he worried he was about to burst into tears like some spoiled child. Against all odds, he managed to keep his voice even. “I’m living on my own, working two jobs – what more do you want from me? Why isn’t anything I do ever enough?”

“What the hell are you -? I’m not saying that at all –”

“Enough.” Souji took a deep breath. He could feel how void of emotion his face was even as he looked at Yosuke’s, full of everything. “I don’t care. Get out.”

Yosuke blinked. “What?”

“Get out,” Souji repeated icily. “Go home.”

“So, we’re just not even going to talk about this.”

Souji laughed humourlessly. “Don’t you talk enough?”

The words seemed to physically hit him. Yosuke took a step back and swallowed hard, his mouth tugged down at the corners.

“Okay,” he said faintly. “Fine.”

It took Yosuke both forever and no time at all to grab his stuff and slide on his boots. The outerwear clashed oddly with his borrowed pajamas, which he wasn’t bothering to change out of. Without another word, he wrenched open the door and stepped out, slamming it shut behind him.

Souji stood there as the cold air Yosuke had let in reached him and easily penetrated his pajamas. He took a deep breath and looked around the dark apartment as his hand started fidgeting, tapping a frantic rhythm against his thigh. He massaged his palm. Rubbed his jaw. The back of his neck. He sat down on the edge of his bed. Took another deep breath. And another. Resisted the urge to grab his earphones, still faintly playing music, and rip the cord in half. To snap his MP3 player. To dig his nails into his skin. Bite off his own tongue.

Both options had led to the same place all along. From the start it was where he'd been destined to end up. Pathetic, resentful Souji, finally all alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lifts leg* happy holidays lmao


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another flashback  
> have u accepted wavy-haired minato into ur life yet

Souji fidgeted with his tie, loosening it a little before undoing it entirely and stuffing it in his pocket. There was something about the Gekkoukan uniform he just couldn’t get used to. He watched a door as he passed and stopped, frowning at the sign on it. It didn’t make much sense, and that was without the bold and overly enthusiastic writing style. As he stood there staring at it, the door slid open and Souji was staring at a blond foreigner.

Like someone switching on a light, a smile lit up his face.

“Ah! Are you here to join fashion club?”

It was hard to decipher through his accent – French, Souji placed it with a little difficulty – and Souji stood there for a moment, gaping like an idiot before blinking. “Oh. No, I was just…”

He let his voice trail, unsure of exactly what it was he was doing. Stalling in the hopes he’d miss his train and that would lessen the time he had to spend at home. There was no practice that day, Minato had gone home halfway through for a dentist appointment, and Souji had accidentally turned down an invite to go to the mall by some kind of kneejerk reaction he regretted immediately.

“No one else has joined,” the boy said sadly, the light dimming. “We are halfway through the year and still, nothing.”

Souji tilted his head, feeling an ache of sympathy. “Well… I don’t know. What do you do here?”

And he brightened up again. Off and on, off and on – he was pretty expressive. Souji found himself smiling without trying. Just as he started to explain, Souji’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, his heart sinking. That name was never a good sign.

“Uh – just a second, sorry.” He turned away from the French boy and answered his phone. “Hi.”

“Are you on your way home?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’re having guests for dinner tonight,” Souji’s father informed him. “Hurry home so we can get everything set up.”

“Okay.”

The line went dead, but Souji stood there for a moment with the phone still against his ear, staring at some point on the floor. Snapping it shut, he turned around and looked at the blond boy.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Ah – but – some other time, you will be back?”

Souji paused for a moment, his eyes on the fingers nervously stroking the fan he carried. Already far more invested in this city and its people than he should be, it seemed pointless to say no at this point, but he was in such a bad mood now he couldn’t bring himself to say yes, either.

“We’ll see, okay?” Souji was already backing away down the hall, leaving the boy looking rather upset. “I’ll see you around.”

 

* * *

 

Minato picked up his cell and barely had time to answer before Souji was giggling in his ear, which was a little strange but not entirely out of character.

“Hi! Look outside.”

Not really understanding why, Minato obeyed, climbing off his bed and nearly tripping on the tangle of sheets he had so comfortably nestled himself in. Pressing his forehead to the window, he looked down at the dark street but it was all he saw. Just the streetlamp illuminating an empty patch of asphalt, covered in dead autumn leaves. “Okay, I’m looking. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Wait… Which window is yours?”

“What? Are you outside?”

“Uh oh. Not if this isn’t your house, I’m not.”

Minato frowned, then something clicked: the house sat on a corner lot. “You’re on the wrong side.”

“Oh!” Shuffling and heavy breathing sounded through the line, and then Souji was jogging around the corner, raising his hand in a wave. “I see you! Open your window.”

“No,” Minato said, waving back, “it’s cold out.”

“I know. Let me in.”

“Let you in?” Minato leaned his weight against the window sill, looking down at Souji’s shadowy figure. “Souji, I’m all alone in here. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“She’s not home…?” Souji’s words slurred a little and Minato squinted suspiciously down at him. It was hard to tell from a floor up but he didn’t seem too steady on his feet. “Hey, c’mon, let me in. I wanna see you. I came _all_ this way.”

“Hmph. Fine.”

Minato pushed away from the window and hurried downstairs, listening to Souji breathe and sniffle on the other end of the line. When he pulled open the front door, he was already on the step, snapping his phone shut and smiling with flushed cheeks.

“Hi,” he smiled as he stepped inside. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“So polite,” Minato intoned.

As soon as his shoes were off Souji stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Minato’s shoulders and pulling him close – but he tripped over Minato’s feet, sending them crashing back against the wall. It slammed into Minato’s back, expelling a tiny breath from his lungs. Souji mumbled something that might’ve been apology.

Closer now, Minato caught a whiff of something and he grabbed Souji’s chin, turning his head to face him. Souji just watched with hazy eyes as Minato sniffed his breath.

“I thought so. You’re drunk.”

“A little,” Souji admitted with a guilty grin. “Dad had some coworkers over for drinks and they got me going too.” The weight pressing Minato to the wall increased as Souji leaned against him. “I’m so _tired_ … Missed you, though. Too bad you weren’t there, I wanna see what kind of drunk you are.”

“I’m not supposed to drink while on this medication,” Minato said listlessly.

“Oh… right.”

Souji inhaled deeply and turned his head, nuzzling his face against the side of Minato’s head. His hair was still a little damp from his shower so it must have felt cold and clammy, but judging by the way Souji was letting his hands roam up Minato’s shirt, he didn’t really mind.

“You should sleep this off.”

“I’m fine,” Souji mumbled carelessly. “I really missed you…”

“I know you did.” Minato grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away, holding them in his. “Let’s go upstairs, okay? You should lie down.”

Souji followed with no complaints. A couple times he tried to start a sentence but not a word of it made sense and after a while he stopped trying. He simply followed, sitting exactly when and where Minato told him to.

“Your parents just let you walk out of the apartment like this?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t they? They don’t care.” Souji sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He kicked a leg out, nudging his toe against Minato’s thigh as the latter stood before him, in what was supposed to be some intimate gesture.

“Drunk in public, underage… If you got in trouble, wouldn’t that come back to bite their precious reputations in the ass?”

Souji chuckled. “Yeah… Okay, I snuck out.”

“Ah. As I thought, I’m dating a delinquent. Here, take your pants off; you can’t sleep in jeans.”

Again Souji obeyed without thinking, and then the two of them crawled under the blankets together. Predictably, he rested a hand atop the side of Minato’s head and went right to playing with his hair like he was always did. It was so thick and wavy and nearly unmanageable that the thought of chopping it all off was always tempting, but then Souji would run his fingers through it and suddenly he couldn’t imagine doing such a thing.

“You should be drinking lots of water,” Minato mumbled, closing his eyes. Souji’s fingers were massaging his scalp in tiny circles, scratching him like he was a cat. Much more of this and he’d probably start purring like one. “Did you eat before you starting drinking?”

“Mhm… I’m fine.”

“If you say so. I’ll be here to hold your hair when you start throwing up.”

Minato hooked his calve around his leg and pulled it between his own, inching closer. They stayed like that for so long that he felt himself drifting off.

“I’m surprised your parents let you drink,” he mumbled.

Souji grunted. “Their coworkers thought it would be funny. I was being too polite and they called me uptight. Told me I needed to loosen up. They only gave me a bit but then I kept going, took it too far. And they still didn’t care! Kept talking about work gossip and fuckin’… business shit… so I left… I don’t care…”

Minato opened his eyes and watched his fingers trail up and down Souji’s forearm, feeling the muscles shifting under his skin. The tan Souji had gotten over the summer from his morning runs and practicing outside with the volleyball team was beginning to fade, hidden from the cool autumn winds under his uniform or cardigans.

“Hey.”

“Mm.”

“Tell me you like me.”

Minato lifted his head to get a better look at his face. Souji’s eyes were closed and with his hair messed up, his knitted brows were visible. “What’re you talking about?”

“Tell me. Please.”

“Souji, we’ve been together for over three months. Go to sleep.”

“Please. I wanna hear you say it.”

Minato sighed and fidgeted with the pillow under their heads. “Of course I like you.”

The corner of Souji’s mouth pulled back into a lazy smile as he made a pleased hum. He moved his hand and touched his fingers to Minato’s lips to feel his words. “Again.”

“I like you.”

Souji’s eyes opened, watching his thumb trace back and forth over Minato’s bottom lip. “Even when I’m angry and pathetic and ungrateful, right?”

Minato’s lips quirked into a small smile. He knew exactly what this was about, regardless of whether or not it made sense to him. “Mhm. Of course.”

“And if I said I hate my parents…”

“I would like you even more,” Minato said, “because it means you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

Souji smiled.

“The way you feel about them doesn’t make you a bad person, Souji. It means you have crappy parents. I don’t even know them and I don’t like them.”

Souji made a thoughtful noise, staring dazedly – until something occurred to him. His face twisted and he slapped his hand to it. “And now I’m complaining about them to an orphan, oh my _God_ …”

Minato snorted. “It’s fine; I don’t care.”

Souji sighed. “You’re a good person,” he mumbled, “liking someone like me. I’m so…”

His face scrunched up and he inhaled sharply. Minato’s heart stuttered, thinking that for the first time, he was about to see Souji break down into tears.

“…so drunk,” Souji finished, burping into his fist.

Minato started laughing and shoved at his chest, but Souji only wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

 

* * *

 

Souji looked up from his mock test, twirling his pen around his thumb, but the only thing sitting eyelevel above the desk in his room was a shelf of reference books. Hardly more interesting. It was all the same, the same, the same. Day in and day out, studying, studying. He leaned back in his chair and stared out the window at the dark gray clouds, vague like an impressionist painting behind the rainwater splattering the window. Pretty in its own way but doing nothing to raise his mood.

He got up and went to the kitchen, more out of boredom than actual hunger, and stared intently at a bowl of soup in the fridge that had mould floating on the top. He wondered if he skimmed that off, if it was still edible. There wasn’t much else in there; he needed to do a shopping soon. Just as soon as they left the money for him to do so.

“Don’t keep the fridge open.”

Souji jumped. His mother could be so lightfooted.

“Sorry.”

Souji closed the fridge and leaned against it, but moved to lean against the counter instead when she wordlessly shooed him out of the way.

“I got my essay back today,” Souji told her, watching closely for the slightest reaction. “I was in the top three.”

“That’s good.” She pulled open the fridge and stuck her head inside, but Souji’s heart nearly leapt with a shameful amount of eagerness at just the tiniest bit of attention.

“Yes. And – and my team’s got a practice match next week with –”

“Ugh. You’re still playing soccer?”

“It – what? It was basketball. And I play volleyball now. I told you that when I asked for money for equipment. The shoes and pads –”

“Oh. Right, right. You’re welcome for that, by the way. Have you found a job yet?”

Souji stared at the back of her head until she straightened up and closed the fridge door, apparently not finding anything appetizing about mouldy soup and a jar of pickles. She watched him shake his head no and even though she barely came up to his chin, he could feel the muscles in his back tensing.

“You should really think about dying your hair,” she told him. “You’re not going to have much luck looking like that. Anyway, you think you could do a shopping if I left you some money?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll call your father and tell him to pick up something for dinner on his way home.”

Souji didn’t bother answering. She was already on her way down the hall, heading for her home office. He stood there until he felt a vibration against his thigh and pulled out his phone to see a message from Minato. A picture of a stray cat they both knew well, wet from the rain and but eating food out of a small plastic bowl.

>hes still here. found him again omw frm work @ island station  
>ur apartment let u keep pets?? almost winter. tbh we should think about it

A smile tried pushing its way onto Souji’s face even as he typed back that management did allow it, but his parents never would. The rain was still pounding the window and each drop made it harder to finish. His thumb hovered over the send button.

Wouldn’t they? They might not care. It wasn’t like they were home enough _to_ care. Once he got a job he would be able to pay for everything and they wouldn’t have to give it a second thought. It would fade into the background, become something easily ignored, just like their son.

Obviously he should just ask. His mother was right there, down the hall and behind a door. A hall that suddenly seemed cavernous and a door not unlike a portal to another world.

>actually my bdays coming up & im the one w the job  
>could prob guilt my aunt into letting me take him  
>u can come over and see him sometimes i guess…

Souji was smiling for real now, sliding down the counter until he was sitting on the floor. He erased what he had typed, instead asking for more pictures and Minato, as another animal lover, obliged without even asking why.

 

* * *

 

“I came by to drop off the work Minato missed today,” Souji said, holding up the manila envelope he was carrying. Arisato narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. The way she was framed by the doorway and standing a couple steps above him, she looked like some kind of guardian deity blocking his path forward. He knew immediately that he had just messed something up.

“He wasn’t at school today?”

“Ah – no,” Souji admitted. There was no getting out of that, at least, but maybe he could salvage something. He would have to see where this was going first.

“I _knew_ it. He told me he went, that little liar. I only just got home and I’m on my way out again, I can’t –” Arisato sighed irritably and put her hands on her hips, glancing around like she was looking for eavesdropping neighbours. Her volume dropped accordingly. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. Half the time he won’t even leave his room. I keep telling him, just get out and go for a walk, it’ll help you feel better. He doesn’t even say anything. He never talks to me.”

Souji shifted his weight to one leg, letting the envelope crinkle slightly in his hand under the faint hope that she would hear it and remember why he was there, then finally let him by.

“He talks to you, though. How is he during school these days?”

“He’s fine,” Souji said uselessly. Arisato narrowed her eyes at him, so he gave in. “He – he sleeps in class a lot and he’s mentioned having issues concentrating.”

“It’s because he’s always listening to those – things.” Arisato gestured at her ears with one hand, checking her watch with the other. “Anyways, I need to get going. It was good seeing you, Souji. Head on in, he’s up in his room.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” she sighed wearily, stepping past him. With long strides, she started down the path to the driveway where her navy sedan was waiting. Souji headed inside, dumped his backpack, and was halfway through taking off his shoes before he heard a voice.

“Hey.”

Souji tilted his head at the boy standing at the end of the hall. With Minato looking like that – too-big t-shirt and pajama pants, unwashed hair – it was no wonder his aunt hadn’t believed him about going to school. The smart thing would’ve been to use his free day to take a shower and at least make it look like he’d left the house. It would’ve given his lie more weight, but chances were he didn’t really care whether or not she believed him.

“You look awful,” Souji told him bluntly, placing his shoes carefully off to the side.

Minato laughed. “I know.”

Souji walked over to him, holding out the envelope. Minato made a face and put it on a nearby table that otherwise held only a vase of dried flowers, barely even glancing at it. When Souji leaned in to kiss him hello, he pulled away.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth today.”

Souji straightened up and looked down at him. “Why didn’t you come to school?”

Minato’s only answer was a shrug. Whether he was going to expand on this or not, his stomach rumbled and he pressed a hand to it.

“When did you last eat?”

“Uh…”

“If you have to think about it, it’s been too long.”

“Yeah. Yesterday, I think.”

“You’ve been home all day and you didn’t eat anything? What have you been doing?” Souji glanced down at his plaid pajama pants. “Sleeping?”

Minato just shrugged. Souji looked over every feature of his face until Minato turned his head, arms hanging at his side as he flexed his fingers nervously. Souji looked to the left, into the kitchen. It was spotless. With Minato’s aunt at work all day, she probably grabbed something on the way, and Minato wasn’t the type to wash the dishes right after eating, so it was looking like he really hadn’t eaten all day.

“Do you want me to make you something?”

“Why?” Minato asked defensively. “I’ll make something later, I’m not _that_ useless. I just don’t feel like it right now.”

“I don’t mind.”

Minato crossed his arms tight across his chest, hunching his shoulders. “God, will you stop?” Souji looked at him, keeping his face blank, and Minato sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his arm like he was cold. “Sorry, but… this doesn’t help. It’s driving me nuts.”

“Then tell me how,” Souji said. “I want to help.”

“I don’t know! That’s the thing, I don’t… I don’t know,” Minato sighed.

Souji glanced into the kitchen again while Minato grumbled indistinctly and rubbed the back of his neck. “If I made something,” he said, “would you eat it?”

“You don’t even like cooking.” Souji stared at him and Minato sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Do whatever you want.”

Souji headed into the kitchen where he looked through the cupboards and fridge to see what his options were. Minato just stayed where he was, tugging on the hem of his shirt and looking uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Or – I mean thanks, I guess. I don’t know.”

“It’s not entirely unselfish, if that makes you feel any better,” Souji said with his head in the fridge. “I’m pretty hungry too, so…” Souji looked up, but Minato was staring at the floor. “Why don’t you go take a bath in the meantime?”

The idea didn’t seem all to appealing to him, but Minato nodded all the same. Souji watched him go, dragging his feet as slow as humanly possible, then turned around and got to work. He felt a little guilty using someone else’s kitchen as his own, even if it was for the benefit of her nephew. Using some leftovers Arisato had sitting in a container he made a simple stir-fry. It wasn’t the lightest thing, best for an empty stomach, but it was something and it had a lot of beef in it which he knew Minato liked.

By the time he was done Minato still wasn’t back. Souji stood around, his stomach aching at the smell, but the polite thing to do was wait. He started pacing a little, his thoughts drifting somewhere into the bathroom where he knew Minato was naked and wet and –

Homework. Souji had homework he could get started on.

Surely by the time he got his books out of his bag then Minato would be out and he’d have to put them away to eat, so maybe he should just go tell Minato that the food was ready, not to rush him, but just to let him know. That would work.

Before he knew it, Souji was rapping a knuckle against the bathroom door and leaning his head close, listening to the sound of water sloshing around.

“Food’s –”

“Come in.”

Souji blinked. They’d spoken at the same time so for a moment he thought he misheard. It wasn’t until Minato called his name a little uncertainly that he knew he didn’t. Taking a deep breath, Souji turned the handle and pushed the door open, warm and steamy air rushing to meet him.

Minato was sitting in sitting in soapy water, knees pulled up to his chin as he leaned sideways against the edge of the tub. His hair was wet, like he’d been completely underwater at one point, but now it just stuck to his cheeks. Still with that bored look on his face, like being completely naked in front of Souji was no big deal and maybe to him it wasn’t. Not that Souji could see anything, but just the proximity was doing things to him.

“The, uh… food’s ready.”

“Yeah? Came all this way just to tell me, huh?”

“Yeah.” Souji took a step back, reaching blindly behind him for the doorknob. “Well, then –”

Minato laughed. “You’re so stupid. C’mere.”

Souij obeyed. Of course he obeyed. He reached the side of the tub and when Minato sat up, he crouched down to meet him. Minato’s lips were damp and soft against his, then his cheek when he nuzzled against him. He tasted of mint toothpaste, apparently having finally brushed his teeth.

“Wanna come in?”

“What?”

“Take a bath with me.”

“...What?”

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m too tired. Just come take a bath with me. That’s fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Souji breathed before thinking. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

But as he straightened up, he hesitated.

“Here,” Minato said, and like he could read Souji’s mind he covered his eyes with a dripping hand.

“Don’t – don’t peek,” Souji insisted, letting his uniform jacket slide down his arms. Minato nodded.

This shyness wasn’t like him. All confidence he’d had when he marched down the hall was completely gone. Clearly Minato was thinking along the same lines, because as Souji began to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, he said bluntly, “I’ve seen your dick before.”

Souji didn’t answer. He knew that, but there was a vast difference between a hurried, fully clothed handjob where a boring movie was the only light and actually sitting naked together in a fully lit bath, pressed against one another and –

– and as he let his pants drop, the belt hitting the floor with a too-loud _clunk_ , he was infinitely glad Minato’s eyes were covered. And they _were_ covered, because Souji had been watching intently the entire time to make sure he didn’t peek between his fingers because he would do that. Once completely naked, the bubbly water was the only shelter, but even as Souji stuck a leg in the scalding water he worried about their positions. Calculating, calculating – he was just over 180cm and Minato was, what, barely 170 and there had to be some kind of equation to figure out if 350cm could comfortably fit into this tub. Volume, or – it was escaping him. The tub was big but Souji had long legs. Freakishly long. What if they were too long? Did Minato think he looked like some kind of freaky, spindly monster?

Then Souji was seated opposite him, too nervous to notice the water was searing the flesh off his bones, and they were both curled into the fetal position and the entire thing was awkward and awful.

“Can I look yet?”

“Yes.”

Minato lowered his hand. Souji was sure he was going to laugh and tease him, but Minato’s eyebrows just angled up and he leaned his head against the side of the tub. With a gentle voice full of something like pity, he asked, “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” Souji laughed, feeling a little stupid. Something touched Souji’s foot and it took him a second to realize it was Minato’s. He let his legs unfold a little and took a deep breath, feeling a little more at ease. “Just a little…”

“Nervous.” At that Minato smiled, but it wasn’t mocking.

“What about you? Are you okay? You seem… drained.”

“I am.” The smile was gone, but he didn’t seem upset or anything. He just watched Souji, brushing his damp bangs out of his face and sniffing a little when he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He stretched his legs out, bumping them into Souji’s. “This is out of order, I think,” Minato said. “We haven’t even been to third base yet.”

Souji laughed nervously. It came out like a schoolgirl’s giggle.

The water swayed around with the slightest movement, making it something both of them could feel. There was something calming about it being the loudest noise in the room. The more time passed, the looser the knot in Souji’s stomach got. It helped that Minato didn’t seem particularly bothered.

“I’m sorry for being pushy earlier,” Souji said. “I just don’t know what else to do.”

Minato slouched so low he was in danger of getting water in his mouth. “Yeah. S’okay. I don’t know either, so…” He took a deep breath. “Whatever. The food’s probably cold by now. Should’ve brought it in with you.”

“Isn’t eating in the bath kind of gross?”

“No? Why? It’s not like I’m washing the food in bathwater. You never eat in the bath?”

“No…”

Minato shrugged.

“You’re gross,” Souji told him.

“True.”

Souji smiled as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the water lap over his shoulders. He didn’t take as many baths as he might’ve liked. He always showered; quick, efficient, and always with the paranoia of racking up the water bill in the back of his head. It was nice sitting together like this. It was even nicer when Souji finally unfolded his legs and tangled them together with Minato’s, feeling his slick skin against his.

“Why are you doing this?”

Souji opened his eyes and looked at Minato. He was looking back, nothing but narrowed eyes just over the water’s surface, raising his head to bring his mouth above water to speak.

“Cooking for me, making sure I bathe…”

“Because I care about you,” Souji said immediately. Minato looked unconvinced. “We’ve been together almost four months, get used to it.”

“That’s not it… It feels… Like, is this part of your hang-up about people-pleasing?” Souji blinked and Minato sighed. “Sorry, that was sort of mean… I just…”

“I care about you,” Souji told him again. “If I was sick, what would you do? What _did_ you do when I showed up drunk on your doorstep? When I was hungover the next day?”

Minato snorted at the memory. “Yeah, but this isn’t just a cold or something that’ll pass with a bit of puking.”

“All the more reason.”

“I’m just scared you’re going to get sick of me,” Minato laughed nervously, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “You’re so nice, it wouldn’t be like you to tell me to fuck off and grow up or – or something.”

Souji stared, thinking back to the short conversation he’d had with Arisato on the front steps. “Did your aunt say something?”

“No.” Minato sighed, sitting up a little higher, and glared off to the side. “Well – just the usual. That I’m lazy and not making any effort. That it’s all my fault I’m like this. She’s probably right. I’m starting to wonder if the only reason she took me in to get treated so fast is because she wanted it covered up as soon as possible. Like your parents, worrying about her reputation.”

Souji didn’t say anything right away. His eyes roamed absentmindedly over Minato’s chest and shoulders, glistening from the water, but he was too lost in thought to really take in the sight and appreciate it.

“I think,” he started slowly, “you’re probably right about me.”

“What?”

“That… I like that you need me.”

Souji rubbed the back of his neck, eyes alternating between the soapy water and Minato’s watchful eyes. Even after all their time spent together it was still hard talking about such personal things, but he was beginning to think that never really went away. Or at least it wouldn’t after years of keeping everything to himself. At the same time, there was something so entirely relieving about it that it was worth it.

“I’ve got this… compulsion to be needed because if I’m not needed then I’m nothing. Praise validates everything I do. It’s like I have no sense of self, I have no idea who I am – my opinions and my preferences are all so fluid and I either don’t care or I just like everything – so I turn myself into what people need me to be. I need them to need me because if they don’t then they’ll leave me and I don’t… I hate being alone. And – I don’t want to use you like that, so… I’m sorry.”

Minato had been watching him the entire time he spoke, never once looking away. Souji tried, but he could only look at him for short periods of time, still with that uncharacteristic shyness.

After a while the silence started to get to him. Souji opened his mouth but whatever he was about to say was gone, washed away by a wave of water as Minato sat forward on his knees. Gripping Souji’s shoulder and the edge of the tub for balance, Minato kissed him. Gentler than usual. Minato always kissed hard, but now he was kissing slower and more softly than Souji had ever felt from him.

A sudden realization flooded Souji’s mind and he pulled back, opening his eyes to look over Minato’s shoulder. His bare back was stretched out before him, the light gleaming off his wet skin and every drop of water and bubble of soap. Hypnotized, Souji reached out and placed a hand on his hip, letting it slid over to the small of his back. The sigh Minato let out in response shot through him – but he knew now wasn’t the time. At the smallest pressure from Souji’s hand, Minato sat back down and turned around, curling up between Souji’s legs, chest to back. The water sloshed around, some of it spilling over the edge of the tub.

“You’re more than you think you are,” Minato murmured, resting his head back. The water dripping from his hair was cold against Souji’s shoulder, clashing with how hot everything else was. “You know that?”

Souji rested his cheek against Minato’s and closed his eyes. Feeling someone head to toe like this, arms around his waist and legs hooked over his, it was entirely overwhelming. He was thinking everything and nothing at all.

“I don’t know.”

“You are.” Minato crossed his arms over Souji’s and sighed. “Although that’s quite the character flaw, caring too much.”

“Please don’t trivialize my struggles.”

Minato laughed. “I’m just teasing. You’re so kind-hearted, it’s sorta funny. The way you get so bothered by feeling negative emotions, like they’re inhuman. I can’t imagine caring that much. You’re always talking about how much you like people, the good and the bad, but you don’t allow yourself the same courtesy. But it’s okay. You’re only human. Little pieces that make up a whole. It’s all okay.”

Souji squeezed him and kissed his shoulder. “You’re being surprisingly insightful.”

“I know, it’s gross. Look what you’re doing to me. Emotions ‘n stuff. I… Look, I wanna be there for you,” Minato mumbled, “the same way you always are for me, but I dunno how. I can’t change the way your parents are and you can’t change…” He raised a hand out of the water, pointing at his temple, fingers like a gun; “y’know, this. We’re both stuck. I don’t know what to do.”

“Me either.”

“Our parents screwed us both up, huh? Mine aren’t even around and they’re still affecting everything I do. How much do you wanna bet the way I am is because I just, like… shut down after everything?”

“We could run away together,” Souji murmured. He grabbed Minato’s hand before it sank back into the water and kissed his fingers. “Get our licences and buy the cheapest car we can find. Or just fly somewhere.”

“Nice try,” Minato said, “but that doesn’t take care of my problem. I can’t run from it. Well, I could, but…”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. It’s a bad joke. Running away with you sounds nice, though.”

Souji nuzzled his nose against his neck. “It does.”

  

* * *

 

Minato climbed the steps to the shrine, camera bouncing a rhythm against his chest from where it hung around his neck. Hunching his shoulders against the cool breeze that went straight to the nape of his neck, he pulled his hood up. One glance around showed him the exact reason he had chosen this as their meeting spot; a white shiba inu was galloping towards him, pink tongue dangling from his mouth. Minato grinned and lowered himself to his knees, burying his face in the dog’s soft fur as soon as he reached him.

“He’s rather fond of you,” came a voice to his left.

There was a man sitting on the bench in a striped shirt. Minato looked away shyly, scratching the dog behind his ears; it was pretty embarrassing being caught in such a way. He was sure the shrine had been empty, but it was easy to see when he hadn’t noticed the guy. Thin and pale as he was, he looked like a strong breeze would knock him over. There wasn’t much to him at all.

“I think he’s like this with everyone.”

“Not everyone. I come here often; it’s rare to see him rush to greet someone like that. More often it’s them rushing to meet him, the way people do with dogs.”

Minato looked at the dog and it looked back, blinking his eyes slowly and happily at the way he was getting his ears massaged. Stupid as it was, hearing he was somehow special gave him a rush of pride.

When he got to his feet, the dog ran over to the bench and sat next to the guy’s crossed legs. Without really knowing why, Minato followed and took a seat beside him. It was less rude, he supposed, than simply walking away and waiting where they could both still see one another. There was no escape in the shrine, not after some kind of conversation had been opened between them.

“Aren’t you cold?”

The guy ran a spindly hand up and down the arm of his thin shirt. “I’m alright.”

Minato shrugged. Not that he had a sweater to offer the guy or anything anyway.

“What brings you here today?”

“Waiting for someone,” Minato said, watching the dog rest its head on the guy’s knee while he scratched it. When the guy didn’t respond right away, he added, “It’s my birthday. We’re going out somewhere, apparently.”

“Ah. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Minato flipped open his phone to check the time, check for messages that weren’t there. October 23rd, 3:16pm. Souji was late, which wasn’t like him. And that was making Minato panic, which wasn’t like him.

“Do you know where you’re being taken?”

“No.” Minato stretched his legs out, trying to warm his hands by stuffing them in his pockets. “I kind of… don’t want to go anywhere, but… doing things like this makes him happy, so…”

A reply didn’t come right away. Minato looked over his shoulder to find the guy was looking at him with a knowing kind of look he didn’t particularly like. Asking like he already knew the answer, he said, “Why not?”

“I just… I don’t know.” Minato wasn’t wild about the idea of spilling his heart to some stranger on a bench and he’d already said more than he was comfortable with. He’d only recently gotten used to being completely open with Souji.

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it,” the guy said.

“Probably not.”

“I have a terminal illness. Any day now, I’ll close my eyes and never open them again. I’m too weak to do things like that.”

Minato looked at him, but he was looking off across the playground.

Something caught the dog’s attention and he sprinted toward the entrance. Someone had climbed the stairs and was looking around the shrine, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. As Souji caught sight of the dog running toward him, his jaw dropped and he crouched down to greet him, looking more excited than was probably healthy.

“Is that him?”

Minato nodded.

“He’s very bright. Like the sun.”

Minato’s mouth pulled tight. All mature composure gone, Souji was talking to the dog in a baby voice and as embarrassing as it had been getting caught with his face in the dog’s fur, at least Minato hadn’t been _that_ bad. Finally catching sight of them, Souji raised his hand in a contrastingly stoic wave and Minato got to his feet.

Looking over his shoulder at the man on the bench, he said, “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” There was no malice or dislike in the guy’s voice, just a kind of weariness Minato knew well. “Spend your life among the living. Bask in the sun’s rays.”

 

* * *

 

Through the camera lens, Minato watched his thighs squeeze Souji’s ribcage. Souji had one hand laid atop his leg and the other cast over his eyes like he was embarrassed by the eyes on him, but not once did he protest. Laid out against white sheets, hair a mess and shirt rumpled, and the moment was caught forever when Minato pressed the shutter release.

Souji was talking, but Minato wasn’t listening to his words so much as his voice. It was about cake or something. The place they’d visited for the birthday dessert, Minato could still taste it. White cake and whipped cream and strawberries.

There was music playing through the MP3 player Minato had hooked up to Souji’s laptop. Lots of bass, because he knew that was what Souji liked. With those long fingers and cool attitude, it was easy to see him as the bassist in a band. All he needed was to stop dressing like such a middle-aged man. What kind of teenager wore dress shirts outside of school?

Minato reached down and popped the top button of Souji’s shirt. He stopped talking abruptly, lowering his arm to watch Minato’s hand.

Black with white polka dots, buttoned all the way up to his throat. Would’ve looked stupid on anyone else, but it looked so good on him. Maybe he could pull off being a bassist, even dressed like this. If anyone could, it was him.

“That guy at the shrine,” Minato said absentmindedly, undoing another button, “called you the sun. Said you’re very bright.”

Souji wore that dopey, fond look he got while peoplewatching. Didn’t even look like he thought it was weird or anything, and he probably didn’t. That wasn’t like him. He was always accepting.

Another button.

“Does that make you the moon? The sun and the moon.”

The moon was a frigid, barren chunk of dull gray rock. Inhospitable and void of everything. Its only light was that which the sun gave it.

“Maybe.”

Another button and he lifted the camera strap from around his neck, laying it off somewhere to the side. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Souji’s chest, sighing against his skin when he felt fingers in his hair.

«The air, unlit before, glows with the light of her golden crown, and her rays beam clear, whensoever bright Selene having bathed her lovely body in the waters of Ocean, and donned her far-gleaming raiment, and, uh… ah, shit, I forget how it goes… And here I was, going to be all poetic.»

Souji was saying something in English and it was entirely lost on Minato. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his warm skin, listening to his voice now more than ever, the way it stumbled a little awkwardly, forming words too heavy for his tongue. Another button and Souji squirmed beneath him.

«…s-something, something… Then her great orbit is full and then her beams shine brightest as she increases. So she is a sure token and a sign to mortal men.»

“There’s a reason there are so many poems written about the moon,” Souji said, switching abruptly back to Japanese. “It’s mysterious and r– ah! Heh, that tickles – romantic. People love the moon.”

One hand on the nape of Minato’s neck, massaging with his thumb; the other, entwined in his hair. Minato squeezed his eyes shut tighter, feeling for the next button and popping it undone. His heart began to race. Not so much out of love or excitement as he may have hoped, but more out of fear of what he could feel coming.

“I did a bit of reading about tarot cards not long ago,” Souji went on. “If I remember right, the Moon is a card of creativity, dreams, strange and beautiful thoughts, but also deep-rooted fears.” The hand on Minato’s nape squeezed gently. “Illusions of the subconscious. Projecting your fears of the past onto your future. It’s very human.”

Minato took a deep breath and undid the final button, letting his shirt fall open and pressing more kisses against the dip where Souji’s sternum ended, this time with flicks of his tongue. Something was building, trying to push its way out, and Minato kept swallowing it back down. No matter how it scratched and burned at his throat like bile, he pushed himself forward, dragging his lips, tongue, and teeth across Souji’s skin.

“The Moon lit the way through the darkness for the Fool,” Souji breathed. Talking, talking, talking – to fill the silence, to soothe both his nerves and Minato’s because he probably knew what was building, but his voice wavered every time Minato’s mouth hit the right spot. “Reawakened the Fool’s imagination and gave him the choice to succumb to illusion and stay stagnant, or use it to move forward. Maybe I’m more of a Fool than the sun.”

Before he could smother the sob, Minato’s shoulders jumped with a badly suppressed hiccupping noise. He opened his eyes, but all he could see was two tears on Souji’s skin, rolling down the slope of his ribs to pool together. The hand slid from his nape around to his jaw, and tilted his head up to look at him. Cupping his cheek against his palm, Souji brushed his thumb across Minato’s cheekbone, wiping away the tears staining his cheeks.

Minato wanted to apologize but his head was full of TV static. It was his seventeenth birthday and he was spending it with the first person to tell him he was loved in ten years. He should’ve been happy - he should’ve been a lot of things - and it was ruining everything. He was _always_ ruining everything; never breaking it beyond repair but just enough to upset everything and leave a lasting, bitter memory. And it was never going to stop because if he couldn’t be happy during a moment like this, then when would he ever be happy?

Minato sat back against Souji's lap and as much as he wanted to push Souji’s hand away, he leaned into it and closed his eyes, clutching his wrist so desperately it must’ve been painful. Souji sat up to meet him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it confusing jumping back and forth between the present and past? probably. whatever!! sorry i guess lmao
> 
> honestly though i was never planning on going anywhere with this story so there are a lot of things that have been kind of hamfisted and there are a billion things i would change about it but you guys are soooo nice and it means the world to me and i'm going to stop before i get any further because emotions are gross  
> now here's like 7,500 words of them

Floating upside down wasn’t making the TV any more interesting.

Either Minato didn’t actually have any blood and what he tasted on his lips when he chewed them too roughly was just all in his imagination, or it was just a part of him not being affected by gravity, but he’d been sitting crosslegged upside down since this show began and there was nothing rushing to his head. He could’ve been sitting normally for all it mattered. It didn’t feel like anything.

Ironic, he supposed, after all the time he spent not feeling much emotionally. Why not physically, too? Unless it was supposed to prove a point; show him true isolation. Or that things could always be worse.

He reached both arms above his head – down toward the bed – where the remote was sitting, but every time he tried to press a button, his hand went right through it. After the thing with the rock, he thought he was getting better at focusing enough to affect things, but maybe that was just a onetime thing or he was just desperate enough to get Souji to notice him just one more time.

Regardless, he couldn’t change the channel and now he was stuck watching some woman show him a cake recipe that looked so good it was almost painful.

With how bored he was, it was starting to look like he should’ve gone with Yosuke to Souji’s. Avoiding him wasn’t going to make him forget about the rock incident. With Minato’s luck, Souji was probably asking Yosuke if he’d noticed anything supernatural lately right at that moment. And Yosuke was panicking and sputtering and spilling everything.

Or maybe he’d keep his cool. All things considered, Yosuke had done pretty well so far. Minato had a surprising amount of faith in him.

The front door opened downstairs and Minato righted himself, touching down on the floor – or what he did that passed for it. It was so late he’d been thinking that Yosuke was spending the night, but someone said something to his parents who were sitting downstairs in the living room, and that was definitely Yosuke’s voice.

Footsteps came up the stairs and along the hall, then the door opened and Yosuke walked in, eyes on the floor.

 _“Hi,”_ Minato said.

“Hey.”

_“I’m glad you’re back – change the channel for me. It’s stuck on the food channel, like the universe is getting another laugh in at me.”_

Yosuke scoffed and walked by him, keeping his head lowered and face hidden. Only then did it dawn on him that Yosuke was wearing pajamas he recognized as Souji’s. Minato frowned and followed him to the bed where he grabbed the remote and changed it to the DVD player’s input, pressing play on whatever movie was left in there. Try as he might to get a look at his face, Yosuke kept turning his head.

“Stop.”

_“What’s wrong?”_

“Nothing.”

_“You’re a really bad liar.”_

Yosuke stepped over to his dresser and began to change into his own pajamas, throwing Souji’s into the corner with more vehemence than pajamas probably warranted.

_“Did something happen with Souji?”_

“Back off,” Yosuke snapped.

Minato crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. Something had definitely happened between them. If it was Souji figuring out about Minato, then why would Yosuke be angry? Unless Souji had done something else to piss him off.

Yosuke climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up to his chin, curling into a ball. Even with his eyes closed, he was still frowning. Minato stood around for a moment, then lay down next to him. Yosuke didn’t move or tell him to get away, which was a good sign. Unless he was beyond caring.

A long silence passed as Minato lay there, watching Yosuke’s face subtly shift while he ran over whatever was going on in his head. His brows twitched together, he chewed the inside of his cheek, and every now and then, he sighed irritably.

“You should probably get used to being stuck in limbo,” Yosuke said eventually. He shifted his legs, the crease between his brows deepening.

_“Oh yeah?”_

“Yup. I’m pretty sure I just messed everything up, so… woops, I guess, right?”

_“Can you tell me what happened?”_

Yosuke opened his eyes, but he just stared at Minato’s shirt. “You can’t be mad, okay?”

Minato didn’t move, nor say anything.

“He…” Yosuke took a deep breath and drew his blankets tighter around his chin. “Souji kissed me.”

He paused, waiting for a reaction.

“I kissed back,” Yosuke muttered when nothing came. “But then I stopped and said it was a mistake, he told me to stop babying him, just like you always do, and it just… went downhill from there. You’re both so goddamn emotionally constipated and –” He let out a sigh that ended in a harsh grunt and pushed the blankets away. “I’m _really_ sick of dealing with this.”

Minato stared at him for a moment, then sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that, I’m just…”

Minato cracked his fingers, one at a time instead of all at once. Looking at the TV. Then the window. The floor.

_“What are you going to do?”_

“What? Nothing. What can I do? It’s always me asking to hang out, me making the first move. He just… goes along with it. Even the – the kiss was probably just… him giving me what he thought I wanted. He doesn’t really care and I can take a hint. If he doesn’t want me around, fine. I’m tired of being the only one trying.”

_“I don’t think it’s… Souji, uh, he… you probably scared him.”_

“Scared him,” Yosuke half-laughed. “He was the one that…”

Staring at the floor, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Minato cleared his throat. Thinking of the time Souji had turned tail and ran that day under the rain, bailing at the first sign of confrontation. He didn’t know the specifics of what had happened between him and Yosuke, but it sounded similar enough.

_“Souji… tries to tell himself he doesn’t care, but he does. He cares more than anyone I’ve ever met. We’re opposites in that way, it’s kinda funny. I don’t care at all and I wish I did; he cares with everything he has and tries to convince himself he doesn’t. It makes him clam up and… push people away when he gets scared, which is pretty much all the time.”_

Minato took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. Yosuke was still lying down, watching him with a slight frown, but now it was more thoughtful than angry.

_“If it helps, it’s a bit of a compliment. He cares about you enough to push you away. You scare him.”_

Yosuke looked down, tugging at a stray thread on the cuff of his shirt. “You’re being pretty calm. I thought you’d get mad, start knocking stuff off my shelves.”

Minato forced a laugh and it came out a little weaker than he might have liked. He got to his feet and walked over to the window, trying not to think of the reflection that wasn’t there, of the gravity he couldn’t feel. Trying not to think that everything was turning out exactly how he knew it would from the beginning. That was his lot as the dead, to disappear while everyone moved on. Not like he could complain; he’d done it to himself.

He took a deep breath and turned around.

_“So, what are you going to do?”_

Yosuke grinded his palm into his eye. “I don’t know. It just feels like I’m forcing myself on him at this point. Like giving a shit is doing more harm than good.”

Minato shook his head. _“It’s not. And if he thinks that, then… it’s just him being an idiot.”_

“You guys really… know each other pretty well.”

_“I guess.”_

Yosuke hesitated. “Uh… He talked about you a bit, you know. I asked him about you and he said some pretty nice things.”

Minato looked at him.

“You wanna hear?”

A pause, then a reluctant sigh, and Minato walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed. Still – always – keeping the distance between them, he lay back down atop a bed he couldn’t feel and gazed over at a boy he couldn’t touch.

_“Yeah. Tell me.”_

 

* * *

 

Souji leaned against his mop’s handle, watching the doctor down the hall. She was talking to a man, the husband of a patient, and the longer they spent together, the more his shoulders slumped. Souji couldn’t hear what was being said but he didn’t need to; he’d been working there enough to know what was going on. Long enough to know better than to stare, too.

He turned his attention to the mess he was supposed to be mopping up. Just juice, dropped by some careless kid; hardly the worst of what he’d seen since starting here. The mundanity was almost nice. Better this than another blood spill in the OR.

“Hey, you.”

Souji’s eyes flicked up. The person standing before him, her face was blocked by the brim of his hat, but he recognized Uehara’s voice.

“You’re nearly standing in juice,” he told her. She didn’t move.

“You’re keeping busy, huh?”

“Yes. You should get back to work too, Uehara-san,” Souji said as sweetly as possible, pushing his mop through the juice so that the pool neared the toe of her shoes. She stepped back, clicking her tongue.

“Well, aren’t you in a mood today. Too bad, I was going to suggest we sneak off together.”

Souji straightened up, leaning against his mop again. She was smiling at him, a subtle smirk. Ever since he started working here, she teased him like this. It was easy enough to see through. She wanted to see him squirm, but would probably go along with it if he agreed.

Which was tempting now more than ever. After what had happened with Yosuke, something free of emotions and obligations would be nice. Someone who wouldn’t look down on him and would finally just touch and _use_ him.

Either way, he was saved from making a decision by a doctor calling Uehara’s name. The one that had been talking to the husband. The two women headed down the hall together, leaving him to his work – but only after Uehara winked over her shoulder and mouthed ‘later.’

After the juice was mopped up, Souji stuck the mop back in the bucket and wheeled it down the hall toward the elevator. The only other person in it was a short old lady. Even before the doors closed, she wouldn’t stop staring at him.

Souji turned his head away pointedly. Had his mood been better, he might’ve struck up a conversation with her or at least smiled – she looked like she could use a bit of kindness – but talking to someone else was the last thing he wanted at that moment, least of all someone in mourning clothes. He’d had enough of death.

As soon as the doors opened again, he pushed the bucket out and was gone, leaving her and her problems behind him. They weren’t his.

 

* * *

 

Souji climbed out of his truck and slammed the door shut, freezing when he heard a familiar voice laughing and talking.  One look around told him there was no one nearby, but he knew he heard Yosuke’s voice. That squeaky, defensive voice he got when you teased him.

Sure enough, once he climbed the steps to the second floor, Yosuke was sitting against his door. There was no one else around and he wasn’t on his phone. Souji stared at him as he leapt to his feet.

“Souji, hey.”

Souji continued to stare. Then he took a step forward and proceeded to unlock his door. “Go home, Yosuke.”

“No,” Yosuke said flatly. Souji straightened up to his full height and looked down at him, but he looked determined. “I’m not going, so – so stop being so melodramatic and listen to me.”

Souji sighed and opened the door, stepping inside and – against all better judgements – left it open for Yosuke. He followed eagerly, holding it open for a moment before closing it. Souji was going to snap about letting the heat out, but all the aggression was getting to him, leaving him exhausted.

“How long were you sitting out there?” Souji asked. The watch on his wrist – the watch Yosuke had gotten him for Christmas, but he tried not to think about that – was telling him it was after seven. “I’ve been at work all day.”

“Not long. I called the hospital and asked about your shift. They wouldn’t tell me anything until I said I was throwing you a surprise party and didn’t want you walking in halfway through.”

A simple lie, but Yosuke looked proud of himself for having devised a way to cheat the system. Souji clenched his jaw and turned away, shedding his jacket and unwinding the scarf from around his neck. Yosuke walked by and sat on the couch, more at home than he had the right to be, and Souji went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, splash water on his face.

When he came out, Yosuke was busy staring at something in the kitchen, but every time Souji tried to follow his gaze, he didn’t find anything. Just the empty counter. Imperceptibly, Yosuke shook his head side to side. Half hidden by the way he had his chin rested on his palm, fingers extended up the side of his nose, he mouthed words Souji couldn’t make out.

“So what do you want?”

“I – I wanna talk about what happened the other day,” Yosuke said, jumping and dropping his hand like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I would’ve come over sooner, but between your work schedule and mine…”

“That’s fine.” Souji looked away, walking over to stand beside a shelf where he had half his figure collection. The rest were still in boxes, packed away. He fiddled with the energy sword of one. “Go ahead.”

“Uh – okay.” Yosuke crossed his arms tightly, clutching at the sleeve of his shirt. All the determination he’d had only moments ago was gone and his eyes kept darting all around the room. “Well… I’m sorry, first of all, I guess. I shouldn’t have… done what I did.”

“Which part are you apologizing for?” Souji asked monotonously.

“The… the kissing part.”

“I was the one that initiated it.”

“But I returned it.”

“I don’t see the problem.” Souji bent the sword so much it looked like it was about to snap, so he picked up another and toyed with its arm. “I was worried I’d been misreading signs all along.”

“Signs…?”

“You’re hardly subtle.” Souji glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Yosuke blush and turn away. “Anyway, we’re both consenting adults and it was just a kiss. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“ _Me_? You’re the one that kicked me out as soon as I hurt your feelings.”

Souji placed the figure back on the shelf. “I kicked you out because I have no interest in being pitied. I take it you won’t apologize for what you said?”

“What? No, I stand by that. Look, Souji,” Yosuke got to his feet, “you _are_ messed up but that’s okay. It doesn’t make you weak or whatever you’re scared of being. You went through hell, but you made it worse by keeping it to yourself.”

Souji scoffed. He turned away from the shelf but having nothing to do with his hands was driving him insane.

“Again with that,” he said flatly. “Talking through things doesn’t do anything, Yosuke.”

“It does. You’ve helped me a lot these last few months, you know that? Because when I talked, you listened, and it – it makes a difference. I don’t have to pretend when I’m around you and I want you to be able to say the same.”

Souji crossed the room and sat beside him on the couch, rubbing his hand over his mouth and making a thoughtful noise before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He twisted his hands so hard it felt like the skin was about to rip, or his fingers might dislocate.

“My boyfriend and I used to talk a lot,” Souji said, turning his head to look at Yosuke over his shoulder. Despite looking uncomfortable, Yosuke firmly held his gaze. “We talked about everything. Some nights we spent hours on the phone, just talking. We talked and talked and talked until we were blue in the face, and do you know where it got us?” Souji paused, but Yosuke didn’t say anything. He just frowned a little. “It got us nowhere. He killed himself.”

Yosuke didn’t look as surprised as he should have. “He didn’t really pass away.”

“No. That was… that was me telling myself it was an accident because if it was an accident then it wasn’t my fault,” Souji said, his leg beginning to bounce on the ball of his foot. “But it _was_ my fault. It was suicide and I didn’t see the signs – or I did but I chose to ignore them, I don’t know –”

Souji looked down at his hands, still twisting together. He pressed his knuckles to his palm, the way Minato always used to, and there was something satisfying about the way they cracked, four loud pops.

“You really believe in the power of friendship and all that juvenile shit and that’s great,” Souji said dully, “I wouldn’t change that about you. But to me, it’s not worth a damn. It wasn’t enough to save him and it… there’s no point. Talking gets you nowhere. People can never – they will never truly understand one another. We live and we die alone and that’s all there is to it. I’m tired of trying to convince myself otherwise.”

“That’s not true.” Yosuke leaned forward, mimicking Souji’s slouch and the way his fingers were laced together. “Souji, people can’t exist alone. I get that you’ve been through something awful, but you’re making everything so much worse by trying to shoulder it all yourself. I’m your friend, you should share it with me.”

Souji kept watching his hands. The way the tendons moved beneath the skin and the light on the matte surface of his nails.

“Being upset about it just makes it about me,” he said. “Killing himself made sure it all about him and it’s like I’m not allowed to be… There are… ugly, bad things that no one wants to know about me. Even you.” Souji looked at him. “You only started hanging out with me because I paid attention to you, right?”

Souji paused again, waiting for an answer that never came. Yosuke only sat there and looked like he’d been kicked in the gut.

“I’m not an idiot,” Souji went on. “I know why people talk to me. They like having a blank surface to see themselves in. A mirror so they can see their flaws and fix them, or – or just to preen. No one cares about me, and it’s fine, I’m used to it.”

“Man, fuck you,” Yosuke sighed.

“Am I wrong?”

“ _Yes_! Look, maybe in the beginning I liked the attention, I won’t deny it – but it was because I was lonely too. I graduated high school and I had no friends, just work, and yeah, I saw myself in you. But I kept wanting to hang out with you because I wanted to know you more, because I came to like you. You’re sitting here bitching about how you’re so alone, no one really knows you, but have you given them the chance to?”

Yosuke paused, but Souji just sighed and ran his hands over his face.

“Look, you said yourself that you and – him – used to talk all the time. You were happier then, right? Souji, you’re allowed to be angry. If people know you or care about you at all, they’ll accept you no matter what.”

Souji got to his feet, his hands curling into fists at his side, nails digging into his palms. It did nothing to stop them from shaking. “I don’t want to talk about this,” he said faintly, horrified at how his voice wavered. “Please, just… leave me alone.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere.” Yosuke got to his feet as well but something seemed to catch his eye in the kitchen and he looked away for a moment. “He… he couldn’t run from his problem and neither can you.”

Souji blinked. As he stared at the floor, he tented his hands over his mouth and let out a long, slow breath. He felt suddenly nauseous. Cold and hot at the same time, so tense he could feel his whole body quivering.

“How’s your friend doing?”

Yosuke frowned. “What?”

“When we first met,” Souji said deliberately, lowering his hands, “you called a name and said it was your friend. I told myself it was a coincidence because what else would it be? But lately these things keep…”

Yosuke was looking at him with a tight jaw, brows pinched, like he was realizing something horrible. He averted his gaze and Souji tilted his head, chest aching and heart racing.

“Minato’s here, isn’t he?”

 

* * *

 

Minato wrapped his arms around his knees and took a deep, shaking breath. From where he sat on the counter, all he could see of Yosuke was his back, his hunched shoulders and clenched fists, but he was standing his ground. He wasn’t saying anything.

 _“It’s okay,”_ Minato told him. _“I want – he should know.”_

“Yosuke, where is he?”

At first Yosuke didn’t move, but then slowly, he turned halfway to Minato and raised his hand, pointing right at him. Souji’s wide eyes followed and Minato’s heart thumped painfully. Though he knew Souji couldn’t see anything, it was like he was staring directly at him.

A hundred years seem to pass in the span of a few seconds. Souji’s brow knitted for the briefest moment before smoothing out again, like he was fighting with himself to keep a blank face. The way the corners of his mouth twitched downwards gave him away more than anything else.

“Minato?”

The pain in his chest spiked and he let out a sharp breath, swallowed hard, tried to think of anything to say – but even if he could, it was pointless.

“You… can’t hear him,” Yosuke mumbled.

“What’s he saying?”

“No, nothing, he’s…”

Then Souji was moving, taking careful steps closer to the counter and Minato felt himself pulling back, drawing his knees to his chest.

_“Tell him to stay away.”_

“Souji, he says stay back.”

He halted immediately, looking from Yosuke to what looked to him like an empty space.

“He’s weird about getting too close to people,” Yosuke explained. “He won’t tell me why, but my guess is because he goes right through them and it… can’t feel all that great.” He caught Minato’s eye and despite them never really talking about it, he had a feeling Yosuke knew more than he let on. “He can’t touch anything. People included.”

“But – but the stone outside my house,” Souji said a little desperately, “that was him.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t work like that. If he really tries, he can touch things, or – in the beginning, he kept freaking out and – you remember the flower vase at the hospital and the… the light in your room? He has mellowed out some; that hasn’t happened in a long time. But he still can’t touch anything.”

Souji’s chest began to rise and fall with quick, shallow breaths. “For how long? How long has he -?”

“Few days before we met you at the hospital.”

“So every time we hung out he was there –”

“Not _every_ time…”

“But you knew, you knew all along, everything, and you just kept – pushing me – towards what? Why is this -?” Souji pressed his hands to his face and exhaled harshly. Yosuke reached for him but as soon as he touched his arm, he pulled away. “ _Don’t_.”

Souji didn’t yell. Even during their fights when they were together, Souji never yelled, never raised his voice. His anger burned beneath the surface, smouldered and flowed hot as lava. It was worse than an eruption.

Being talked about like he wasn’t there, listening to Souji’s voice sound like that… Minato hugged his knees, pressing his mouth to them until it hurt. When Souji lowered his hands, his face was that icy look, the one void of everything, and he spoke with a voice to match.

“Has he been following me?”

“What? No, he can’t go too far from me. Or he stays in my room sometimes.”

“You were there, then. When I was outside Dojima’s and the stone… Did you bring him to me so that – what, he could leave that message? Why?”

“What message?”

 _“I drew a heart for him with the stone,”_ Minato mumbled, rubbing his eye wearily. _“He traced it with chalk.”_

“Are you serious? Man… uh, well…” Yosuke rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. “Yeah. We were there because your camera – or his, I guess – he wanted to see it and… look, dude, we stole and I feel super bad about it, but once he looked at the pictures on it, we returned it. I was there, yeah. He was keeping you distracted and acting as an alarm to make sure you didn’t come inside while I put it back in your drawer and – I’m really sorry.”

Yosuke was rambling awkwardly, something that any other time, Souji would probably smile at. Now he just closed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair, messing up the normally smooth and neat style. When he opened his eyes, he leveled them at Yosuke and they were alarmingly hollow.

“Why you?”

“What?”

“Why you?” Souji looked all over the empty space, his eyes angled somewhere around Minato’s mouth, then just above his head. Never truly finding his eyes. “Why not me? Why can _you_ see him?”

“I –” Yosuke looked a little thrown off by the resentment in Souji’s voice. “I dunno…”

Yosuke looked to Minato, almost begging for help, but he was frozen, chest was aching like sludge was pumping through his veins.

“It should be me,” Souji mumbled. “Then we could… Anything that happened between us is our business, not yours.”

“Maybe that’s why it had to be someone else,” Yosuke snapped, surprising both Minato and Souji. “You both get so wrapped up in your own problems you can’t sort them out for yourself. If you would just stop feeling sorry for yourself for two seconds, you would see that you haven’t been alone for a long time. Yeah, your parents suck, but you don’t need them. You have Dojima and Nanako but you barely talk to them – your fault. You have me, and I almost have to twist your arm just to get you to put half as much into this friendship as I do – also your fault. So just – own up. Grow up.”

Souji stared at Yosuke for a long time, his face that frosty mask. Then he let out an odd, choked noise. Minato’s heart skipped a beat, thinking it was a sob, but one look at his face showed it to be a bitter laugh. “Grow up? You’re the one that keeps treating me like I’m fragile. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t even know what it is.”

“I’m – I’m trying not to hurt you because I care about you, you ass!” Yosuke crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders, but the blush spreading across his cheeks gave it away as a defensive gesture rather than an angry one. “Look, you’re right – sort of, maybe – I’m not any better at dealing with this kind of thing than either of you are. I’m not qualified for thing kind of thing, I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. Then I’ve got Minato over my shoulder telling me all kinds of shit, and I just – I don’t know.”

Souji brushed a hand through his hair again, lifting his heavy bangs off his face and messing up his hair even worse than before. It made him look even more exhausted. He sat back down on the couch, legs spread wide and hands pressed to his face. Yosuke looked to Minato. 

 _“Tell him…”_ Minato sighed. _“Tell him it was my decision not to let him know and you went along with it because you’re… you’re a really good friend. Or – you don’t have to tell him that part, but… tell him that I was ashamed –”_

“– and he thought it would be easier if you worked through everything without him interfering. The way he saw it, he messed you up enough and if we could get through this without you knowing he was here, then that would be ideal. He says that -”

_“- that’s why I tried keeping you away from him at first. I thought he needed space to work things out on his own, but –”_

“– he knows now that it’s a mistake not to let people in and he doesn’t want to see you repeat the past. He says the way you two spent all your time together and didn’t make any other friends, that was a mistake. You two – you made each other your whole world and when one left –”

_“– everything collapsed. Tell him that all people have is each other. Tell him I just want him to be happy and –”_

“– surrounded by people that care about you – because there would be a lot of them, if you would just give them the chance. And I’m – I’m one of them.”

Souji’s hands were still covering his face. A silence was dragging on.

“That last bit was me,” Yosuke mumbled, apparently unable to bear it. “He didn’t say that. But – but now he’s laughing at me and he says he agrees. And I’m not making that up, I swear.”

Still laughing a little, Minato hopped down from the counter and, smile fading with every step, walked over to stand before Souji. 

_“Tell him it wasn’t his fault and any anger or hate he felt was justified. It wasn’t fair for him. Tell him that everything he feels is okay. And that –”_

“– you’ve come so far. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is – and that includes you. But it’s okay, you’re doing good. You always do the best you can. You’re – you’re strong and brave and he’s – we’re… we’re both proud of you.”

_“Tell him I’m sorry –”_

“– and –”

“Stop.”

Souji lowered his hands. Frowning off to the side, away from both of them, he shook his head.

“It shouldn’t be like this. I can’t – I can’t talk to you like this. I don’t want secondhand words; I want to hear them from you. This is just some letter to find after the fact all over again.”

Minato shifted his weight and clutched the hem of his shirt in two shaking fists, the full brunt of being addressed directly hitting him like a punch to the stomach, forcing all the air out of his lungs. Yosuke was watching Minato closely, looking concerned even as he tightened his arms around his ribs.

“I don’t _care_ about being strong,” Souji said, staring at the floor, “or brave, or – or any of that. I care that when you were with me, I didn’t have to be.”

Souji rubbed the heel of his palm over his forehead and closed his eyes.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

A silence fell upon them then, heavier than ever, suffocating and oppressive. Minato’s jaw was beginning to ache in that way that could only mean tears, but they wouldn’t fall. He was numb, unable to act. Souji inhaled deeply and rubbed a hand over his face before opening his eyes.

“I still don’t understand, why is this happening?”

“It’s… a regret thing,” Yosuke said softly. “He’s stuck because he regrets, uh… leaving you alone and everything. Y’know, unfinished business, like in the movies. At least that’s what we think; it’s not like there’s a guidebook to go by or anything.”

Souji sighed.

“How are you planning on fixing it?”

Minato looked down at his hands, still gripping his shirt. Knowing what was coming as soon as it was ‘fixed,’ it wasn’t a topic he was particularly fond of. Hearing it in Souji’s voice, the way he was speaking so emotionlessly, was even worse.

“We don’t really know what to do,” Yosuke said. “We’re kind of just making it up as we go along. Or – he is. I’m just here to change the TV channel when he can’t,” he laughed uncomfortably.

 _“You’re helping,”_ Minato reassured him quietly. It earned a small smile, which Souji watched with a soft look that was too sad to be a good thing, but it was better than anger or nothing at all.

“You two are getting along?”

“Y-yeah. We didn’t really at first, but…” Yosuke looked to Minato for reassurance, clearly worried he was the only one thinking this. Minato nodded and Yosuke looked relieved.

“That’s… good, I guess,” Souji mumbled a little awkwardly.

“Yeah…”

Souji sighed. A long pause, and then – “I’m sorry, I really want to be alone right now.”

Yosuke and Minato looked down at him but he was looking at his hands, folded neatly in his lap.

“Souji…”

“I’m really tired and I… I need to think. I’m not saying…” He looked up at Yosuke, directly into his eyes. “I’ll call you. As soon as I’m ready to… to talk. I promise, okay?”

Yosuke stared back, then nodded once. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I know you will.”

Souji got to his feet as Yosuke and Minato headed toward the door. It seemed to take years for Yosuke to get his boots on and when he was finally finished, he just stood with his hand on the door, hesitating.

_“Tell him to take care of himself.”_

“He says to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. I will. Minato, uh…” Souji swallowed and shook his head, eyes on the floor. “I’ll… talk to you later.”

Minato bit his lip until he thought his teeth might puncture the skin. All he could manage to do was to nod, which Yosuke tried to relay to Souji before pulling the door open.

The thought of staying behind while Yosuke headed outside, seeing how Souji acted as soon as he was alone and if the mask would break, was tempting. Until Minato remembered the way he’d sounded when he asked if Minato had been following him. It was enough to push the idea from his head entirely, and he followed Yosuke out.

As soon as the door was closed and they were walking along the balcony, Yosuke looked over at him, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket and hunching his shoulders against the cold.

“How’re you holding up?”

_“I don’t know.”_

“Yeah. That was pretty rough.” Yosuke took a deep breath that came out as a white cloud. “But hey, it’s a step forward, right? Not like you were – either of us were enjoying lying to him. The truth is out in the open now, so… It’s better than whispering behind his back and stealing from him.”

Minato made a noncommittal noise, watching his feet as they walked down the middle of the road. It had started to snow while they were at Souji’s; the kind that would leave a small dusting and then be gone by morning.

_“Hey, if we’re still being honest… Uh, about the… touching people thing. Why I try not to.”_

Yosuke looked at him curiously, no trace of foreboding, and waited patiently while Minato struggled to figure out how to word it.

_“The first time I figured it out was… the night I broke your TV. It didn’t break from me passing through it. While you were sleeping I kind of… put my hand into your chest.”_

Which was enough to wipe the curious look off Yosuke’s face. “Uh…”

_“It broke when I was… I felt things. Your memories and just **you** as you are and – it was disgusting. Uh – I mean, not the things I felt from you, they were nice – uh, that sounds creepy. I mean that it was a disgusting thing for me to do without your consent, so… I’m sorry.”_

Yosuke blinked and looked up at the sky as he brushed some flakes of snow out of his hair. “I have no clue how to respond to that. I’d say it’s okay but I’m not sure it is. What – what kind of things did you… feel?”

Minato hummed thoughtfully. _“Nothing you haven’t told me about, more or less. There were a lot of memories of the city. A lot of nostalgia. And a lot of time spent alone after moving to Inaba, feeling resentful and trapped. Lonely. Playing your guitar. You liked it but you were frustrated because you suck at it.”_

“Hey…”

_“There was a lot about your ex too, good and bad – more bad. That’s why I asked about her that one time, remember?”_

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you saw anything weird with her.”

Minato didn’t say anything.

“Dude,” Yosuke laughed nervously, his voice taking on a bit of desperation, “c’mon…”

Still, nothing.

Yosuke groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. “You felt me -? Are you kidding me? That’s so fucked up!”

_“That’s what broke the TV.”_

“Holy shit…” Yosuke’s hand slide down to cover his mouth and he looked horrified. “That’s so – never do that again. What the hell is wrong with you?”

 _“I know, I’m sorry.”_ Yosuke grumbled, cheeks flushed, as he kicked at the ground, scraping a line of snow away from the asphalt. Minato smiled at him – or rather, just sort of lifted the corners of his mouth. His eyes stayed dull and tired. _“That aside, for what it’s worth… They were nice memories. Even the bad ones. They’re both important I guess, huh? Make you who you are and all that.”_

Yosuke looked at him, snow falling on his hair, his eyelashes, and Minato had to look elsewhere. He was thinking of reaching up and brushing it away. The memory of Yosuke’s ex playing with his hair, he could still remember it as well as the way he and Souji used to do the same. It was a nice thing to do; he missed it more than he would have expected. Something so small, but he did, he really missed it.

“Do you think you could possess someone?”

Minato looked at him but Yosuke was staring ahead, down the road. Being around Minato and Souji must’ve been affecting him because he was doing pretty well at keeping emotions off his face.

“I’ve been kind of thinking about it since this all started and now hearing you say all that… Do you think you could?”

Minato followed his gaze. There was nothing ahead of them but a long, empty road.

 _“I know I could. I felt it with you.”_ Yosuke frowned at him and Minato forced a humourless smirk. _“Why, are you offering your body?”_

“Hell no! You already - What if it goes wrong and kills me? Like, switches your soul for mine and then we’re stuck like that forever. No offense, but I don’t wanna be in your shoes. So – so don’t get any ideas, alright?”

_“I know, relax, I’m just teasing. I wouldn’t.”_

“Well… good.” Yosuke stroked his chin thoughtfully. “But what if that’s how to fix everything? Give you and Souji a chance to properly say goodbye or whatever.”

 _“Then we’ll find some other way,”_ Minato said flatly. _“I don’t want to turn into… I hate being like this. It’s why I walk everywhere, why I pretend I can still do something as simple as sitting on furniture. Doing that would just… I won’t do it.”_

Yosuke exhaled another white cloud and said nothing more about it.

They walked in a silence that carried them all the way back home, up to Yosuke’s room where he got ready for bed while Minato watched TV, sitting on the foot of the bed. Just like any other night. Until Yosuke called his name and Minato lay down beside him, closing his eyes until Yosuke fell asleep and pretending he could do the same.

 

* * *

 

Souji found himself sitting under the gazebo by the river, sitting the wrong way on the picnic table and staring at a stray cat basking in the sun along the concrete path. To think it had been snowing the other day and now it was warm enough that he was only wearing a knit sweater. The weather was being strange lately, the way it always was when seasons changed.

The thought of going over to pet the cat kept crossing his mind but he never got up. He just kept staring at it, barely blinking, and shredding the label off his bottle of water. It looked relaxed, flicking its tail lazily. He’d only disturb it.

Souji looked down at his water bottle. Tore another piece off the label.

Nothing really felt real.

It was like he was on autopilot. Physically, he was there; mentally, everything was a haze. Going over everything all at once and coming up with nothing.

He’d read books, seen shows, watched movies about ghosts and hauntings, both benign and not. But that was the point; it was fiction. Now his friend was telling him he could see his deceased boyfriend. Ex. Whatever. That just didn’t happen in real life.

He worked in a hospital where people died every day. How many more like Minato were there? Yosuke could see Minato before he met Souji. Was meeting Souji just a random chance? If ghosts existed, could fate? If it was fate, what was the point? To show Souji it was time to move on? With Yosuke? That kind of thing really, really didn’t happen in real life. Even if it did, where the hell did that leave them? How was he supposed to react to that? He liked Yosuke and it seemed like Yosuke liked him but could a relationship flourish under that kind of pressure? Relationships were things that happened naturally and this was anything but. Besides, it hadn’t been a year yet and despite everything he’d said, he really wasn’t sure he was ready. If he wasn’t, would Minato have to wait around until he was?

Souji’s body moved, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He stared at it for so long the backlight turned off and then he was left staring at his reflection. To take his mind off the bags under his eyes he started poking around his phone’s gallery, going through the pictures. There were so few new ones that most of them were from when he still lived in Iwatodai.

Souji opened the newest picture; one of him and Nanako cheek to cheek. He hadn’t seen her since he moved out which was just over a week ago but felt like so much longer. He hadn’t even called.

Without thinking, he opened his contact list – just barely enough numbers to count on two hands and and that was only if Aiya counted – and called Dojima’s landline. While it rang, he turned around on the bench and rested his head against the table. As bad as it made him feel to realize it, he was half hoping no one would answer – but his heart thumped a little excitedly when someone did.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Nanako.”

“Ah -! Big Bro!”

“Yeah, hey. Uh… how are you?”

“I’m okay.”

Something in her voice made Souji frown. “Is your dad working late tonight?”

“Yeah…”

Souji stared at the cat. A couple girls were walking down the pathway, one of the laughing loudly and the other walking a fat dog. Combined, they were enough to scare the cat to its feet and it skittered away, heading down the slope to the riverbank.

“You’re all alone?”

“Yeah, but I’m okay.”

“Hmm…” Souji knew he should apologize. It was partly his fault for leaving her behind. All his whining about his parents never having the time for him and he turned around and did the same thing as soon as he got the chance. “Hey, how about I come over? I’ll cook you dinner, or – we can make it together.”

“Is that okay?”

But she sounded excited. Souji smiled and closed his eyes, folding his free arm under his head. “Yeah, of course it’s okay. I miss you. It’s lonely living on my own.”

“I miss you too.”

“I’ll be over soon, okay? Maybe we can go to Junes, too.”

“Okay!”

“See you soon.”

“Bye!”

Souji snapped his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket. He stayed there for a moment, eyes closed and feeling the gentle breeze coming from the direction of the river. Then he got to his feet and started walking.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! NiceCoasters made a [mixtape](http://8tracks.com/nicecoasters/the-three-of-us) you guys should check out it's sooo good

Bent over so low his back was starting to ache, Souji dragged the coloured pencil along the dinosaur’s spine, concentrating hard so as to not go outside the line. Pressing harder around the edges and always colouring in the same uniform direction.

Try as he might, he kept thinking about the dirty dishes sitting in the sink behind him. Back in the city and even during all his time in Inaba, he always washed them right after eating otherwise the mess would drive him up the wall. But this time he had looked over his shoulder while waiting for the sink to fill and saw Nanako sitting by herself, staring at the TV, and the guilt of everything crashed down on him. Now here he was, colouring dinosaurs in shades of greens and browns while the bubbles popped and the water cooled.

“Pretty.”

Souji looked up. Nanako was smiling at him. Her own dinosaurs, shades of pinks and purples, were so much more vibrant with the added excitement of colouring outside the lines here and there. His suddenly seemed so personality-less and dull.

But he smiled anyway. “Thanks. I like yours too.”

Her smile widened, until the news came on the TV and announced the time. Nanako glanced sideways at it, her smile faltering before she lowered her head again and started colouring the foliage around the stegosaurus in vibrant greens. Souji looked over his shoulder as if he expected Dojima to walk through the door.

Reaching for the remote, he changed the channel away from the news, flipping around until it landed on some cartoon. It was more for background noise than anything; she seemed too preoccupied to pay much attention. Something had been off the entire visit. Unless it was just his imagination and some pathetic desire to be welcomed back with open arms and happy tears.

Or she was bored and just humouring him. She was ten and the suggestion to colour had been his. Did ten-year-olds like colouring? She was older than the kids he used to babysit in the daycare and he couldn’t remember what he did when he was her age. Reading and studying, probably. Or learning to suppress emotions; his favourite pastime.

“I should bring Yosuke by again,” Souji said and Nanako looked up. “I bet he’s awful at colouring. You’ll have to teach him. It’s been a long time since you two saw each other, right?”

All because of him. Nanako nodded and smiled and Souji wondered if anything really was wrong or he was just assuming it was because nothing was right with him.

“Yeah, I’d like that!”

“Good, it’ll be fun.”

It wasn’t a lot but maybe for now it was enough. If he was going to do this then he needed to take his time. He’d never really been one to rush into things. Starting big would probably just scare him away, although maybe he needed to learn not to do that.

For now though, he and Nanako were colouring dinosaurs and eventually he switched his greens and browns for vibrant blues and purples and reds. When she started yawning, he helped her get ready for bed which she didn’t really need but both were happy as anything for an excuse to spend more time together. It resulted in him sitting behind her on her bed, putting her hair into two French braids while she held his phone with the instructions on how to do so. Because otherwise her hair would get all knotted and heaven forbid.

“Hey, Nanako.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I left.”

Nanako didn’t say anything right away, poking her thumb at the phone so the screen would light up again.

“It – it would’ve happened eventually,” Souji said after a long silence, “since I’m getting older, but… I didn’t talk to you afterwards and that was wrong of me. I’ve just been… sad lately.”

“Why are you sad?”

“I had a… friend that I lost. He passed away. I’ve been missing him a lot lately so I wanted to be alone because I thought it would be easier, but it wasn’t. And I think I hurt you in the process. Did I?”

“No, it’s alright,” Nanako said a little nervously. “I’m okay.”

Souji fastened the first braid with one of the pink elastics around his wrist. “You don’t have to be. It’s okay not to be okay.” And suddenly he was sounding like Yosuke.

As he gathered up the rest of her hair, Nanako picked at invisible fluff on her blanket. “I liked having you around because I wasn’t alone as much and then you left and everything was just like before. Both you and Dad…”

“I know,” Souji said quietly. “That was unfair. I should’ve visited you – or you could’ve come over to my new place. It’s kinda small and stinky though.”

Nanako giggled.

“I think there’s a rat living in my wall, too. Think I should catch him and keep him? A pet rat might be fun.”

“Yes! Rats are cute.”

“Heh, I think so too.”

Nanako toyed with his phone and the little cat charm he had hanging off it while he worked on the braid.

“I still miss my mom,” she said softly. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you. And… you know, I think your dad misses her too. That’s why he’s not home a lot. Um… my parents used to leave me alone a lot too and it took me a while to figure it out, but it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault, okay?”

It was a clunky, poorly delivered little speech but Souji wasn’t sure how else to go about it. He needed for these things to be said, he needed her to know it, because these were the things he wanted to hear when he was her age, sitting home alone and wondering why his parents always chose work over him.

Nanako nodded. “Okay.”

They sat in silence and he finished off the braid. It turned out just as crooked and uneven as the first one but when she looked at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser, she smiled and said she loved them.

After he closed the door to her room and stood in the kitchen, he hesitated. It was late. The polite thing to do would’ve been to wash the dishes and then go home, but once he was done with them he found himself wiping down the counter. After that, he sorted and put in a load of laundry. He was scrubbing the grout around the kitchen sink with an old toothbrush when Dojima finally came home. The front door opened and Souji listened for the sound of him staggering or drunkenly muttering, but nothing came. He just sighed wearily – and swore when he walked into the room and caught sight of Souji staring at him.

“You scared me,” he half-laughed, holding a hand over his heart. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“I came to see Nanako and then…” Souji looked down at the toothbrush’s frayed bristles. “And then I don’t know.”

Dojima frowned a little suspiciously. That old detective’s look. “I see.”

“There are leftovers for you in the fridge,” Souji said, going back to scrubbing. He could hear Dojima rummaging while he tried his hardest to clean the grout by the faucet. It was as old as the rest of the house so it was never going to be pure white again, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

“It’s pretty late,” Dojima said. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yes, an evening shift. Would you like me to leave?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Souji sprayed more cleaning solution on the grout. “Alright.”

Dojima sat at the table, careful not to drag the chair against the floor so as to not wake Nanako up, and ate while Souji continued to scrub. Once he got the calking around the tap as clean as it was going to get, he started on the rest of the sink. There were stains around the drain, probably from countless cups of cold coffee getting poured out.

“Where were you tonight?”

“What?”

Souji didn’t bother repeating himself. Dojima heard him.

“Work. And watch that tone. I had something I had to take care of,” he said sharply. Souji kept scrubbing. Dojima kept eating. Eventually he got to his feet and put the empty plate on the counter beside Souji. “There was a breakthrough on the… I’ve been working on trying to find who killed my wife. You know that.”

Souji made a noncommittal noise. He kept scrubbing and his arm was beginning to ache.

“But it was – Souji, hey –”

Dojima reached over and grabbed his arm, pulling it out of the sink and squeezing until he dropped the toothbrush.

“Relax, will you? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Souji said, pulling his wrist out of his grip. “Did you find the guy?”

“No, of course not. Chances are he’s long gone. I’m still going to keep trying, but…” Dojima frowned at him and it wasn’t the detective look. Paternal? Was that what it was? Souji didn’t have anything to compare it against. “Are you doing okay?”

Souji swallowed and washed his hands. Only when he was drying them off did he say anything.

“Did you ever blame your wife?”

Whatever Dojima’s frown had been, it wasn’t that anymore. Now it was telling Souji he was stepping into dangerous territory.

They had never talked about anything of substance, mostly just work. Dojima would complain about some of the inane things people called in about or some of the stuff Adachi got up to, and Souji might talk about the nurses or patients, or some of the things he’d had to clean up – but he mostly listened. At one point Dojima even joked around with him and said Souji was almost like a little brother, but it was all pussyfooting around the real things they had in common.

The only time they came close was when Dojima first told him about continuing the investigation into the hit-and-run, but then he got sharp and told Souji not to push it. So he didn’t; he was too tired to push and it was hitting too close to home.

But now he was blowing all of those barriers right to hell.

“She should’ve watched where she was going,” he pressed on. “Inaba’s small, you can see cars coming from miles away. Why didn’t she move out of the way? Couldn’t she hear it? Why wasn’t she more careful?”

“Enough,” Dojima snapped. Souji immediately fell silent. He stood with his hand on his hip, sliding his fingers underneath his shirt and digging his nails into his skin. “That’s _enough_. This is about that boy and I get that, but you don’t get to –”

Dojima heaved a great sigh and crossed his arms, looking away until all Souji could see of him was his neck and the back of his ear. The two stood in a heavy silence for a long time. Souji shifted his weight from leg to leg. He didn’t know why he’d said that, nor what answer he was looking for. He didn’t really know what he was doing at all.

“I did blame her for a while,” Dojima admitted. Souji looked up at him, but he was still turned away. “You think I didn’t think those things? Of course I did. You get mad and you need someone to blame. Maybe I’m still doing it, I don’t know, but that driver killed her and he needs to – that’s how the system works. But what happened to your – it’s not the same, so I don’t know what you want me to say, Souji.”

“I don’t know either,” Souji mumbled. “Sorry.”

“No – don’t apologize, its –” Dojima looked past him to the time on the microwave, rubbing the back of his head and sighing. “Look, it’s late. I didn’t see your truck outside; you walked, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you just spend the night? Your room’s still the same as you left it.”

Souji nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” Dojima took a step and then paused. “I’m – I’m not working tomorrow. Why don’t the three of us go out for breakfast?”

Souji nodded again, lowering his eyes to the floor. “Nanako would like that.”

“Yeah, she would.” Dojima clapped a hand on Souji’s shoulder before turning on his heel and heading for his room. “Goodnight, Souji.”

“’Night.”

Souji watched him go. Only after the bedroom door closed behind him did he drag himself upstairs and into his old bedroom. It was empty aside from the furniture he left behind, but when he laid out the futon and collapsed onto it, it still smelled the same. Was it possible to be nostalgic for something you’d last experienced only a week and a half ago?

There were no sounds of neighbours watching TV or walking with heavy footsteps, just the familiar creaks of an old house. He expected to have trouble sleeping but shortly after his head hit the pillow he could feel himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 _“This one’s good,”_ Minato said, pointing to a CD with a deer on the cover. Yosuke picked it up with his free hand and looked it over. _“I think you’d like them. Anyways, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. You’re still working some things out too.”_

“Yeah, but it’s still hypocritical,” Yosuke said into his phone. He tapped his thumb against the back of the CD case where the members’ names were listed. “These guys are German?”

 _“Swedish. The songs are in English though.”_ Minato walked a little further along the aisle. _“And if you talk to him about it, Souji will understand. You know what he’s like.”_

“Yeah…” Yosuke held onto the CD and followed him, looking over the row as he passed. “But still, I was giving him all this crap about opening up to people and I’m sitting here with no friends – except you, I guess, but…”

But what? He didn’t count? Under the circumstances…

Yosuke let his sentence trail off and looked around. There were things talking into the phone couldn’t help, like the fact that it was a pretty personal subject to be discussing in public and having someone overhear even half of it was mortifying. Thankfully no one was nearby and the store, like all record stores, had music playing obnoxiously loud.

_“You had friends in high school, right?”_

“Yeah, a few. When I first moved here, there were these girls that were in my class, Chie and Yukiko, but I pretty much scared them away by being… me. I was, uh, kinda shitty in high school.”

Minato snorted and didn’t bother trying to reassure him that oh, he probably wasn’t _that_ bad. _“This band’s good, too,”_ he said, pointing to another CD.

“Nah, I don’t like their vocalist,” Yosuke said, shaking his head. “During my third year I hung out with these guys – Kou and Daisuke – but they were so close, I was always felt like the third wheel. They were cool but we were just school friends; we never really hung around that much outside of it. They were busy with their sports clubs and I was always working. Although, looking back… I think I was so wrapped up in not being their, like… ‘most important’ friend that I kind of just didn’t try putting effort into what I _did_ have with those two. Probably the same deal with the girls. Then school ended and it’s really goddamn hard making friends outside of school.”

_“Why not message them?”_

Yosuke pulled a reluctant face and crossed the aisle to where they kept movie soundtracks. “It’s been a while, I don’t even know if… I don’t know. If they don’t miss me too then I’ll just be ‘that guy’ that can’t let go.”

_“You don’t have anything to lose.”_

“Dignity?”

Minato made a face and made a so-so gesture with his hand. _“Ehh…”_

“Man, shut up,” Yosuke laughed. “I don’t know, maybe I will. They’re good guys. And I could introduce Souji to them; they’d get along well. And… there’s my coworkers too, I guess? There’s a girl at work that’s always nice to me.”

 _“Then give it a shot,”_ Minato said a little brusquely. He pointed to another CD. _“That movie sucked but the soundtrack’s good.”_

“Yeah. You know, you got pretty good taste.” Yosuke winked and kept his tone playfully surprised, but Minato just smiled a bit, making him feel like there was some joke he wasn’t getting. He turned on his heel and headed down the aisle without saying anything, leaving Yosuke staring after him.

 

* * *

 

Souji leaned against the counter of the nurse’s station. “Hi.”

Uehara’s eyes flicked up from the file she was reading and her brows drew in a little suspiciously. “Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Souji blinked. The cold tone wasn’t like her and the absence of her teasing, something he had always just accepted as-is and with no particular feelings, felt a little odd. Had it been presumptuous to assume she’d be happy to see him making the first move for once?

“I came to see how you’re doing,” Souji said, because not that he was about to tell her, but she was one of the few people he spoke to regularly outside of Yosuke and his family. There were patients, but they were usually one-time deals. This seemed like a logical step forward in ‘letting people in’ but it was just feeling awkward. “About earlier –”

“I’m fine,” she said shortly, giving her folder a pointed flourish. “As if that woman could get to me. I’ve had worse things said both to my face and behind my back. Don’t you have things to clean?”

“I’m on break.”

“Well, go take it in the breakroom.”

“Would you like to come with me to the café downstairs? I’ll treat you.”

Uehara put her file down and leveled him with a withering gaze. She didn’t say anything but Souji was able to take that much of a hint, at least.

“Okay,” he sighed, “sorry.”

Souji turned away and starting down the hallway, pausing only when she called his name.

“Some other time, okay?”

And he smiled and nodded.

 

* * *

 

Yosuke kept fidgeting, chewing the straw of his drink until it was barely able to function as one. The theatre’s lobby was full of people but from what he could see, none of them were Kou and Daisuke. Although it was pretty early. He’d gotten anxious and caught a train an hour earlier than he should’ve to ensure he wouldn’t be late. Now he was sitting at one of the tables in the corner, bored out of his mind on top of being nervous.

Part of him kept wishing Minato was there but he had refused to come, shaking his head and saying that this was something Yosuke should do on his own. It was said with this carelessness that just pissed Yosuke off for some reason he couldn’t entirely understand.

Having Minato with him would’ve been reassuring – something that struck him as a weird. He hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to having the guy around. There was just something comforting about his detachment. It made things seem not so big. Even when he would follow Yosuke to work and make stupid comments about the customers that only he could hear, it helped him smile through their idiotic complaints and annoyances.

If Yosuke was honest with himself, he knew why Minato had refused to come and why he was so upset about it. What he’d really meant was ‘get used to me not being around.’

Now that everything was out in the open, there was this feeling that things were winding down. The beginning of the end, in a way. Yosuke making friends was a sign he was moving on and when Souji finally called him, that would be a sign he was moving on. Then it would be time for Minato to move on.

Yosuke looked down at his phone, absentmindedly rereading his messages with Kou and Daisuke. They had seemed pretty happy to hear from him.

Fifteen minutes until the agreed meeting time, but his thoughts still kept trailing back to Inaba where Minato was probably sitting on his bed doing nothing at all. That had to be boring. He should’ve come along.

If he was still being honest, Yosuke had known from the start how these kinds of things end. The thing was, he just hadn’t expected to care. In his mind he saw himself helping this lost spirit to move on and then he could go through life with the smug knowledge he had singlehandedly bettered someone’s life like some kind of hero. He’d never be able to tell anyone about it, but he would know and maybe that was enough. Somewhere along the way it had taken an unexpected twist and now he wasn’t sure he wanted that to happen.

“Hey.”

Yosuke jumped like he’d been electrocuted. Kou and Daisuke were standing before him.

“Easy there,” Kou grinned.

“You okay, man?”

Yosuke forced a laugh as he kicked out a chair across from him, gesturing for them to take a seat. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting you guys for a while yet; you’re early.”

“That means you were even earlier,” Kou pointed out. “Were you that eager to see us again?”

“Pff. I just had something else I had to do in Okina.”

“Uh huh.”

“We were surprised when you messaged us,” Daisuke said. He’d taken the seat directly across from him and was toying with the zipper of his jacket. “We thought you didn’t like us anymore.”

“Ah,” Kou sighed, averting his eyes and looking a little awkward. “Right into it, then.”

“What? No. No, of course not, I just… I dunno. I guess I don’t have an excuse,” Yosuke said, pressing his hands between his knees. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no worries. We’re just as much to blame, right? It happens.”

They smiled at him and Yosuke found himself smiling back, some of the tension he’d felt easing out of his chest.

 

* * *

 

With his weight on his hands, Souji leaned against the bathroom sink until he was almost nose to nose with his own reflection. Grey eyes stared back through the steamy glass, barely peeking out from under damp bangs weighed down by water, no longer sweeping off gently to the side. He tried parting his hair on the side and turned his head to see how it looked, but the cut wasn’t meant to be styled like that so it only looked stupid. He parted it in the middle, which looked bad enough that he snorted and shook his head like a dog shaking off water and it felt right back into place.

Then he pushed it back away from his face and imagined cutting it all off. That was supposed to be a sign of moving on, right? A fresh start, letting go. It felt like a hollow token effort. Symbolism only got you so far. But Souji could probably use all the help he could get.

It wasn’t working, going about his day to day like this. Not while he knew Minato was _right there_ and he couldn’t see him, hear him, touch him. Even with what Yosuke said about him not being able to leave his side, Souji kept finding himself looking over his shoulder. Every noise, every small movement was suddenly him.

He turned away from the mirror and got dressed, then found his cellphone sitting on the charger in the kitchen, glancing at the counter where Minato had been sitting while Yosuke called Souji out on everything. He wondered how much had been Yosuke’s words and how much Minato had spoken through him before the secret came out. The running away comment was undoubtedly him. But nothing else sounded like him, so that must’ve all been Yosuke. Or maybe he’d changed during their time together.

With a loud clatter, Souji dropped his phone against the counter and sighed forcefully, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

This really, really wasn’t working.

 

* * *

 

“Apparently Kou’s leaving in the spring,” Yosuke sighed, mashing random buttons on his controller. His character onscreen did a feeble little backflip before getting cut down by an enemy sniper, which wasn’t what he was trying to do at all. “Fuck. Anyways, yeah, he’s going to study overseas. Figures. Daisuke will still be here, so that’s something at least.”

 _“So keep in touch with him,”_ Minato said. _“And use cover. This part’s all ranged attacks.”_

“I’m trying, I just forgot how to roll.”

_“Hold the right bumper and move forward.”_

Yosuke’s character threw out a mine which he promptly stepped on and exploded. Minato looked at him, his face completely blank.

“If you were solid, I’d kick your ass.”

Only then did he grin.

Yosuke’s phone vibrated on the bedside table so he paused the game and rolled onto his back to reach it. His heart gave an excited thump when he saw the name.

“It’s Souji.”

Minato looked over his shoulder and caught his eye, his face right back to that blank look. He didn’t seem to have anything to say so Yosuke let it ring once more before answering it.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Souji said. “Um… are you busy tomorrow?”

Yosuke’s heart gave a pathetic little leap. “Come on, I think you know I’m not that popular.”

“What?”

“What?” There was a pause. “Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Didn’t you know?”

“Oh. No, I haven’t really… I guess I haven’t been paying attention to… Well, it can wait, if you don’t want to –”

“No, it’s okay,” Yosuke said too eagerly. “I’m not working and I obviously don’t have any plans, so… what did you have in mind?”

Souji took a deep breath, deep enough that there was some blowback on the line. There was noise in the background and Yosuke pushed his phone to his ear, frowning and listening closely. It sounded like he was out somewhere with people nearby, which felt like a good sign. He wasn’t cooped up at home.

“I want to go somewhere but…” Souji paused again before speaking flatly. “You have to promise me Minato won’t come with you.”

Yosuke looked up. Minato was watching him but he couldn’t tell if he could overhear. Probably not – the video game was playing music and Souji was soft-spoken.

“Uh… okay.”

“How will I know you’re keeping your word?”

Yosuke’s stomach lurched – hurt or guilt, he couldn’t tell. He rubbed the heel of his palm over his forehead and closed his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust us, I guess. Both of us. Do you?”

There was a pause, the snap of a car door shutting, and then nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

“Yeah,” Souji said. “I trust you both.”

“That’s that, then. Can I ask where we’re going?”

Souji laughed a little. There was no engine starting, which meant that from what Yosuke could tell, he was just sitting in his truck. “Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“Hmm. I didn’t know you were the spontaneous type.”

“I’m not any type,” Souji said. Yosuke could hear the smile in his voice, however sad. “Is… is Minato there? I mean, of course he is, but… How is he?”

Yosuke looked at him. Minato’s head was lowered, focused on his fingers toying with the laces of his boots, and his hair was falling about his face and blocking it from view.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay… Well, it’s late, I should let you go. Uh… say hi to him for me? And… if you don’t mind, tell him that I’m sorry about not… wanting him to come, but… there’s something I need to do and he can’t be a part of it. Also, you should pack an overnight bag, just in case. It’s a long drive.”

“ _What_ is? Where are we going?”

 

* * *

 

Standing on the front step with a backpack full of clothes and his toothbrush, Yosuke felt like a little kid again, waiting for his friend to come pick him up for a sleepover or something. He crossed his arms tight across his chest, tapping out a beat with his foot while Minato sat on the step with his arms around his knees. His heart leapt a little excitedly at the sound of every car driving down the street, but none of them were Souji’s truck. That early in the morning, it was all people heading to work.

“You don’t mind? Like, you’re not at all upset? I would be.”

Minato shook his head. _“Whatever. He’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. Mostly I’m just gonna be bored out of my skull.”_

“Yeah,” Yosuke sighed. He gave Minato an apologetic look. He’d left the TV in his room on and turned the volume down so his parents wouldn’t hear and switch it off, and that was all he was going to have. There wasn’t much else he could do. “Maybe if you try hard enough you’ll be able to change the channel. Or there’s always whatever my parents are watching downstairs, right?”

Minato made a noncommittal noise and shrugged as a truck turned onto the street, and this time it really was Souji. He pulled up to the curb and Yosuke took a step down the path, pausing to look back at Minato. Not really knowing what to say, he ended up just staring at him.

 _“Have fun,”_ Minato said, wearing a small smile that was clearly forced.

“You want me to bring you back something?”

 _“Funny.”_ Minato got to his feet. _“Just take care of him.”_

“Yeah, of course.”

Minato didn’t wait for anything else. He turned around and disappeared through the door. With nothing else to do, Yosuke made his way down to the truck. As he approached, Souji rolled down his window and smiled at him. Yosuke made a surprised noise and pointed.

“You got your hair cut.”

Souji nodded. It was more or less the same, just cropped short from the tip of his ears down, short enough that it was back to his natural black. It was still long and silver on top but now there were more choppy layers.

“I was going to go shorter all over and dye it a different colour, but I chickened out,” Souji said. He crossed his arms along the bottom of the window and rested his chin on them. “Any shorter and my eyebrows would show and we can’t have that.”

“I can still kinda see them.”

Souji pouted and tried smoothing his bangs down, but to no avail. “Does it look bad?”

“No! No, it looks really… really great.”

Yosuke rubbed his nose and turned his head. Souji smiled and sat up straight, patting the seat beside him.

“Anyway,” he said, “get in. Iwatodai is a long way away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pushes my undercut agenda*


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS LONG... i don't really like it but if i don't publish it now then i never will bbblururrghghh
> 
> also, uh... i don't know if anyone would be interested, but i did actually... map out the route they took. just for reference for myself, but maybe some of you might be interested, idk.  
> at first i thought it was going to be longer, but the focus of this chapter wasn't supposed to be the road trip so i did cut it a little short. but anyway, [here's](http://minasouyo.tumblr.com/private/138639635976/tumblr_o1ob75oLsT1ufunqo) some info on the route they took and everything... if you want?? who cares?? whatever!!

The first thing Yosuke noticed when he climbed into Souji’s truck was that there was music playing. It was turned down quiet, but it was there. A band he remembered seeing on Souji’s MP3 player, which was hooked into the stereo. The second thing was that Minato’s camera sat in the middle of the bench seat. As Souji shifted the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb, he pointed at it.

“You planning on taking pictures of something?”

“I don’t know,” Souji said, “maybe. It felt like I should bring it just in case. His memory card isn’t in there. I bought a new one. I was… going to ask you what you think I should do with it.”

“His memory card?”

Souji nodded. “I have a couple of them. Should… do you think I should throw them out? Or clear them and save over them, either way. Uh… I’m going to sell his DVD collection. The only reason I held onto it was because it was his. But the memory cards, I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

Yosuke looked out the window, his reflection in the side mirror drawn in the morning light.

“I don’t think you have to get rid of them. It’s not like I’m an expert or anything but I don’t think the point of moving on is to completely forget memories. And that’s all they are, right? As long as you don’t make it more than that.”

Souji made a thoughtful noise, barely audible over the music and the engine. They were turning onto one of the roads that led out of Inaba, one that went on and on until it vanished into the horizon.

“So,” Yosuke said, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Why are we driving instead of taking the train?”

“I like driving,” Souji said simply. “Either way it’s about six hours.”

Yosuke checked the time on his phone. “We’re not gonna get there until two. You gonna be alright driving that long?”

“It’ll be alright. You can take over if I get too tired, right?”

“Wrong. I can’t drive manual.”

Souji glanced down at the stick shift.

“Oh. Oh well,” he shrugged, smiling over at him. “We’ll manage.”

 

* * *

 

Six hours, it turned out, made for one long goddamn car ride. Made even longer by bathroom breaks, food breaks, crippling boredom, and sore backs and asses. Feeling only a little guilty about it, Yosuke spent most of the beginning sleeping with his head against the window, the mountains a little further away every time his eyes snapped open after jerking awake. Souji, every time he checked afterwards, always had his eyes on the road and a calm, complacent look on his face. One hand on the steering wheel, the other against the door, propping his head up. Just like he drove the back when they first met and just like every time after.

They talked a little now and then, about the scenery or whatever music was playing, but there was no pressure to. For the most part, the drive was just comfortable silences. It felt good. Souji seemed to be at ease. Yosuke was getting good at reading him and it didn’t feel like he was faking it.

“I’ve never been here before,” Souji said somewhere where the expressway they’d been traveling along stretched into a long, oppressive tunnel. “I took the train when I came to Inaba. It went along the ocean but I couldn’t really see it from the window.”

“You didn’t drive?” Yosuke raised a leg and kicked the glovebox just hard enough to make it rattle a little. “Then how’d this tub come into the picture?”

“I bought it from one of the other janitors at work,” Souji said. “He needed to get rid of it and he likes me, so he gave me a good deal. You know, I get the feeling you don’t like my truck.”

“I just don’t get why you didn’t get something cool.”

“What qualifies as cool?”

Yosuke shrugged. “American muscle cars. Motorcycles.”

“That’s so easy.”

“It’s classic!” Yosuke huffed and crossed his arms, sinking lower in his seat, giving the glovebox another kick for good measure. “I wanted a bike in high school. It would’ve just been some little 50, 60cc scooter but I had this image of myself looking all suave. Like girls would look past what a douche I was just to sit behind me and press their, uh… anyway, it’s funny to look back on.”

Souji chuckled quietly. “Don’t worry, I’ve never met anyone that likes who they were in high school.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. I was…” He shook his head and looked amused. “Desperate and needy. The lengths I went to just to make my parents pay attention to me… I hate that about myself. And after I met Minato I turned into a little shit. Suddenly I was getting the attention I wanted but I just wanted more and more. Hah, this one time I was injured during a volleyball game, nothing major, but enough that my nose was bleeding. The coach told me to switch out and go to the infirmary and I was _so mad_. I hated being useless and replaceable. I still went obviously, but I threw a little silent hissy fit.”

Yosuke snorted. “You’re so laidback, I can’t imagine that.”

“Lucky you. Lucky also that you didn’t see my popped collar phase.”

The end of the tunnel came into view, bright and pale blue against the dull orange lights lining the inside. When they broke through, there was nothing but trees on either side, looking a little dreary in the late winter. It wasn’t anything special until a little further down the road when they reached a bridge that stretched over a wide valley. In every direction, there were only rolling mountain hills thick with trees. A river flowed far beneath the bridge and Yosuke twisted in his seat to get a better look. Any worry of looking cool that the high school him might’ve had was completely out the window – which he was pressing his face against. Souji even slowed down a bit to prolong the moment for him.

“This is enough on its own to make up for missing the ocean again,” he said.

“Yeah. You know, I looked it up online,” Yosuke said, sitting properly in his seat. “There’s a route we could’ve taken that goes along the ocean. Not close enough to see, but close enough that we could’ve detoured. You chose the inland route.”

“It’s shorter. I didn’t want to waste more of your time than necessary.”

“It’s like half an hour shorter,” Yosuke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And you’re not wasting my time. I’m here because I want to be.”

Souji looked over at him for so long Yosuke started panicking about drifting off the edge of the bridge. Just as he started worrying about how well the concrete retaining wall would hold up Souji turned his attention back to the road, smiling a bit.

Yosuke looked out the passenger side window. He knew why they were there and where they were going, but for now they were somewhere in between. All that was forgotten and it was just him and Souji.

 

* * *

 

When they stopped to refuel and have lunch in Hikone, Souji squinted across the table of some greasy fast food restaurant and asked, “Does this count as a road trip?”

“No? I don’t think so. It’s just a long drive.”

“I thought that was all a road trip was… I’ve always wanted to go on one. All the moving I’ve done, but I’ve never really ‘traveled.’ Can’t see much with your nose in the books.”

Yosuke slouched back against his seat, chewing slowly on a french fry. Souji sounded more disappointed than was probably necessary and as he toyed with the straw of his drink, he might’ve even been pouting a little.

“Where would you wanna go?”

“I don’t know. I think I’d be happy going anywhere.”

“Then – then hey, let’s go someday,” Yosuke said eagerly. “Take time off work and just… I dunno. Just drive. Anywhere you wanna go, we’ll go, I promise.”

They were probably the same words every teenager dreaming of escape had thought of and even as he said them, he knew they were pretty cliché, but he really meant them. It was a little embarrassing but he managed not to show that – until he looked up and saw Souji staring at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

Souji started laughing.

“You don’t even know how to drive stick! I’m gonna be the one doing all the driving!”

“Well –!” Yosuke sputtered and frowned. “I’ll learn! For you, I would learn. I wanna take you to the ocean.”

The laughter died off. Then, for once, Souji was the one blushing. Revenge wasn’t something Yosuke had pictured himself getting when it came to Souji, but as he watched him lower his head and smile, he felt a rush of pride. The problem was, that left them both sitting in their first awkward silence of the trip, too embarrassed to even look at each other.

 

* * *

 

Minato stared up at the ceiling. He’d been on Yosuke’s bed, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Hand up his shirt, tracing designs on his stomach. If he closed his eyes he could pretend it was someone else’s hand, but his imagination never had been very good and there was something so pathetic about it he couldn’t manage more than a few seconds without feeling like a huge idiot.

The TV had long since become boring and he had nothing else. Not even Yosuke’s parents. They were out doing something – maybe for Valentine’s Day, if Valentine’s Day was something old people celebrated. Or his dad was at work like he always was and his mom was doing… something. Whatever. Minato closed his eyes and rolled over. He didn’t care, it didn’t matter.

A feeling crept over him and he opened his eyes to find himself staring at a boy.

Minato’s heart leapt into his throat and he sat up, but the boy only smiled at him. The boy from the shrine, sitting crouched with his chin on the edge of the bed. Could he touch it? Or was he just like Minato and pretending to? For whose comfort?

The boy stood up, hands behind his back.

_“Hi.”_

Minato stared at him.

 _“Don’t worry,”_ the boy said. _“I’m not here to take you away.”_

Minato turned his head. The TV was playing some romantic movie in the spirit of the season. A boy and a girl, star-crossed lovers, doomed to be apart forever. If only Minato could figure out a way to break the TV again.

 _“I thought you could use a friend,”_ the boy said, _“that’s all.”_

_“Is that what you are?”_

The boy smiled. _“If that’s what you want.”_

Minato watched the girl on TV and her montage of going about her sad life without her boyfriend. Going through the motions but somehow managing to look flawless throughout the whole ordeal. The natural-looking makeup, the messy bun that had been styled to be just the right amount of messy. She didn’t look like she hadn’t showered in a week and there were no dark circles under her eyes. No broken hairs from malnutrition. She looked good.

Minato looked round at the boy, twisting his hands together. _“What’s your name?”_

The boy’s smile faltered for a moment and his eyes flicked up toward the ceiling like he was trying to remember. _“Pharos.”_

_“Weird.”_

Minato moved more toward the centre of the bed and patted the space beside him. Pharos climbed up and Minato got his answer when the mattress didn’t move in response. Two ghost boys, playing at being normal. Or he was just doing it to make Minato feel better. Friends were supposed to do things like that.

The kid looked young, like the kids Souji used to babysit at the daycare back in Iwatodai. Younger than Nanako, maybe, he didn’t know. It was hard to tell; kids were weird. But for all Minato knew of him, he could’ve actually been as old as the Earth itself.

 _“Your friends are having a good time without you,”_ Pharos said. Minato kept his eyes on the TV and didn’t even blink. _“That hurts, doesn’t it?”_

 _“No,”_ Minato said mechanically.

_“Are you lying?”_

Minato reached for the remote Yosuke had left on the foot of the bed, pointing at the TV so that all he had to do was press a button. He tried, but his finger went right through.

 _“A lot of people would feel sad or angry,”_ Pharos prompted, his voice light and innocent, _“like they were being replaced.”_

 _“Yosuke is good for Souji,”_ Minato said, trying to change the channel again and again and again. It sounded like he was reading his lines off a sheet of paper. _“And Souji is good for Yosuke.”_

_“What about you?”_

_“What about me? It’s better this way.”_

Pharos looked thoughtful, eyes rolling up to the ceiling again. _“I wonder if that’s true.”_

 _“Why wouldn’t it be? It just makes sense. What kind of attitude do you think I had when I killed myself? **Not** wanting to be replaced? That doesn’t make sense. That’s generally the point, right? People kill themselves because they think everyone would be better off without them and because they’re tired of being fucking miserable all the goddamn time and –” _ Minato took a deep breath and tried focusing hard enough to affect the remote. It still didn’t work. _“When I – I knew that – This is what I wanted, so it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine and if I could just change the fucking channel then I could – God, **fuck**!”_

Something snapped in his head, he clenched his hand into a shaking fist, and pulled it back. He wanted to throw the remote into the TV, punch a hole in the wall, something – fucking _anything_ – but there was nothing he could do except dig his nails into his palm until his fingers ached.

He held his breath and closed his eyes. Slowly, his hand fell limply into his lap and only then did he exhale. Face contorting, eyes squeezing shut, Minato put his head in his hands and sighed.

 _“That anger is good,”_ he heard Pharos say softly. _“You should hold on to that.”_

 

* * *

 

The first time Yosuke saw Iwatodai was through the lens of Minato’s camera.

Out of boredom, he’d been playing around with it and he could see the appeal. It was kinda fun. The novelty would wear off eventually and he knew that, but for now he understood what it was that made Minato like it. The first picture he took was of Souji driving through some expanse of field between cities – he couldn’t remember which. He didn’t even look over, didn’t seem at all bothered by the attention. After Minato, he was probably used to it.

The next few pictures were whatever was outside their window. A lot of blurry, unfocused shots of cities, and even one of an old dog in a neighbouring car gazing over at him with vague disinterest. Then Yosuke turned back to Souji and watched as he gestured out the windshield.

“Look.”

Yosuke pointed the camera forward.

For a while there had been nothing on either side of the expressway but fields, then factories and industrial plants. Then a couple small apartment buildings, suburbs, and office buildings. The expressway curved around and down a huge but gentle slope, and Yosuke got his first good look at the city sprawling below, hugging the curve of a huge bay and connected to a large island by two bridges.

“Ahh, it’s weird being back,” Souji exhaled in a hiss.

“Big place,” Yosuke said. Souji snorted.

Yosuke looked over at him. The drive had ended up being about seven hours and it showed in his eyes.

“Should we go rest somewhere?” Yosuke put the camera back down on the seat between them and dug his feet into the floor, tensing his entire body until he was one straight line and his back cracked. “It’s looking like it is gonna be an overnight trip, so we can find a cheap place to stay the night and –”

“There’s somewhere I wanna go first, before anything. Then we can go from there.” Souji looked over and lifted the corner of his mouth a tiny bit. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, man, this is your show. Anything you say goes, I’m just along for the ride.”

No longer smiling, Souji turned back to the road. “I appreciate it.”

 

* * *

 

The place Souji wanted to go, it turned out, was the cemetery.

“This is what you’re supposed to do when you grieve,” he said as they walked along rows of graves. He turned to look at Yosuke. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I mean, I guess. I don’t know. But it makes sense.”

Souji nodded pensively as if Yosuke was affirming something he hadn’t been completely sure on. Something touched Yosuke’s hand and he jumped a little, looking down to see Souji bumping his fingers against his. Just the back of his hand, like he was too unsure to reach out. Yosuke hooked his index around Souji’s pinky the next time he tried. They laced their fingers together and squeezed.

The sun was shining so brightly the top of Yosuke’s head was warm, even against the brisk air. There was no wind, no clouds, and no snow at all. Overall, they couldn’t have had better weather. It was so bright some of the more polished and well-maintained graves were almost hard to look at.

“I’ve never done this before,” Yosuke said, looking around. “All my grandparents are alive. No one I know has ever… I barely know what I’m supposed to do. There’s – we’re supposed to get water, right?”

“Oh – uh…” Souji looked around and shrugged. “But won’t it freeze on the grave? That can’t be good…”

“Well, at least if we mess up and piss his spirit off, he’s around to tell us straight out. I mean, he’s already haunting us,” Yosuke said. He laughed a little but Souji just looked uncomfortably at him and it fell flat.

Souji gestured ahead, muttering, “There it is.”

The grave was small but the way Yosuke’s stomach twisted, it may as well have been some huge black obelisk stabbing the heavens. In reality, it was just a cheap grey granite thing, a little unkempt and mostly unimpressive. Minato’s name was engraved along with his parents’, and there were some overgrown weeds around it, shriveled and looking a little pathetic.

“No one’s been visiting,” Souji mumbled. He dropped to his knees and let go of Yosuke’s hand, immediately grabbing hold of a plant that had been trying to grow in the crack between the grave and the stone walkway before winter hit. “Fucking idiots.”

If he hadn’t been so busy staring at the grave, thinking about the three urns of ashes he knew were inside it, Yosuke might’ve been surprised by the venom in Souji’s voice. He couldn’t stop staring. The same feeling as when he’d looked through old pictures with Minato was washing over him, the waves nearly knocking him backwards. This was more concrete proof Minato had existed and that he was really dead, really gone.

A clicking noise caught his attention and Yosuke blinked, looking down at Souji. He was lighting incense they’d bought from the shrine with a fancy metal lighter he’d gotten from a gas station on the drive up. It cost more than the plastic ones but Yosuke half-suspected he chose it because he thought it was cool and for some reason that was especially funny right then, because everything was a lot right then.

Yosuke wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Smoke coiled up from the incense and Souji stayed crouched before it, arms on his knees, flipping the lighter open and shut over and over again. Not praying. Neither of them prayed.

“This feels stupid,” Souji said.

“What?”

“It feels stupid.” Souji got to his feet, the lighter clicking over and over, and he sighed forcefully. “It’s pointless. People do this to speak to the dead, but Minato’s not… _here_. He’s sitting in Inaba. Alone.”

Souji stared down at the lighter, lighting the flame, flipping it shut. Flipping it open, lighting the flame, flipping it shut.

“Should I have let him come? Or – no, I should be doing this without him, for sure. But I should be crying, right? That’s how you’re supposed to grieve.”

“I don’t really think there are rules,” Yosuke said slowly.

Together they watched the smoke curl from the incense. With a final snap, Souji put the lighter in his pocket. “When I was little, I got in trouble for crying all the time. My parents called it being noisy. I eventually learned not to.”

“Your parents sound like real pricks.”

“Mm.”

Something touched Yosuke again and he didn’t even look, just held Souji’s hand.

“I never cried over Minato.”

Yosuke looked at him. Souji looked at the grave.

“When I got the news, I didn’t cry. At the wake, at the funeral, I never cried. I was in this kind of… I don’t know. I was numb. Then I was angry and half the time I had this idea in my head that if I cried, he won.” Souji smiled, just barely. “It made sense to me at the time. After what he did to me, I didn’t want him to win anything. If he didn’t care, then neither did I. Then I moved to Inaba and Dojima’s house is so small that if I cried Nanako would hear me. I didn’t want to trouble her. So… I never cried. I don’t know if I could, even if I wanted to.”

Abruptly, Souji squeezed his hand and stepped forward to pick up the incense.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, this is… like I said, it’s pointless. He’s not really here.” Souji checked his watch and Yosuke peeked over to see for himself. It was well after four in the afternoon. Closer to five. “Let’s go find a cheap hotel to rent or something, drop our stuff off, then I’ll show you around the city for a bit. How’s that sound?”

“Good.”

Souji smiled.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere between the third and fourth floor, Yosuke looked up at the numbers above the elevator door and said, “You’re _sure_ your parents aren’t home? I don’t wanna run into them before mentally preparing myself.”

“Their trip is until April,” Souji said. “There’s no way they would come home early.”

Just for something to do, to quell the nerves he didn’t quite understand, Souji turned to the wall and ran his finger over the strip of metal that ran around the elevator at hip level. There was a scratch by the corner that had been there for since they moved in. Nothing had changed, but there was still this feeling of unfamiliarity. It was, Souji realized as he unlocked the apartment door, the same feeling that would plague him for weeks every time his parents moved him to a new city. The feeling of existing in a house, not a home.

“Wow.” After kicking off his shoes, Yosuke walked down the hall and looked around. He gestured to the bare walls. “How much did they take with them?”

“Just their clothes and personal stuff. Everything else is being provided by the company,” Souji said, following close behind. Yosuke threw a disbelieving look over his shoulder at him. “It always looks like this.”

Less cold usually, since the heat was off, but only slightly noisier. The only sound that was missing was the constant humming of the fridge. Everything had been unplugged, the curtains had been drawn, but it was only slightly less welcoming than usual. Standing in the middle of the living room, Yosuke crossed his arms and looked unimpressed.

“Creepy,” he said, and Souji almost laughed, remembering Minato having the same impression. That he found it completely normal must’ve said something about him, though less so now that he had spent time at Dojima’s. “Whatever. Show me your room, I wanna see.”

Souji led him down the hall and opened his door, leading the way into the small room. More than half the DVD collection still sat on his shelves and the rest were covered by figures and statues. Yosuke shook his head.

“It’s very you.”

“Me…” Souji tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Yosuke walked along the shelf to stand before the biggest, an orange and blue mecha suit holding a huge rifle. “Unashamed, that’s what I mean – not that, uh, you should be. You like what you like and you’re never embarrassed by it. It’s really cool. Even if your interests aren’t.”

He winked and Souji smiled, even if his words left him feeling a little unsure.

“You can’t tell you’re this kinda person on the outside. Like if I didn’t know you and you said you played volleyball and got top grades in school, I’d be like yeah that figures. But if you said you like… well…” Yosuke gestured to a figure of a catboy and let it speak for itself. “Then I’d probably figure you were making fun of me, trying to string me along on some joke I wasn’t in on. Even the drama club is pushing it. But – don’t get me wrong, though. I, uh… I like seeing this side of you.”

“Hm…”

Souji looked up at his shelves again, his mind wandering in a way beyond words, waiting for something to take shape in the haze. Something would come to him eventually. Yosuke apparently lost interest and started going through his bookshelf, pulling out a manga volume now and then.

“I used to…” Souji had started speaking before he was ready. His words came out slow, barely more than a drawl. “In high school, I hated how vague I was with my interests. It felt like I couldn’t call myself a fan of anything because… I was all over the place. I had nothing to define myself with, nothing I could look at and say ‘this is who I am.’”

“You wanted to be stereotyped?” Yosuke scoffed and went to sit on Souji’s bed. There were no sheets on it, just the mattress sitting on the box springs, adding to how cold and empty everything felt. “Isn’t that the kind of thing teenagers hate? I mean, not me. I was the one doing the stereotyping.”

“There’s comfort in it,” Souji said. He reached up and brushed a bit of dust off a figure’s head. Now that he looked, they were all covered in a fine layer. That was going to be a pain in the ass to clean. “Not when you’re reduced to it, but when you’re able to find yourself in it. Does that make sense? I had no sense of identity. I wanted… to know who I really was. I think I still do.”

“You’re you,” Yosuke said simply. Souji looked at him. He arms and legs were both crossed, but he was watching Souji intently enough that he didn’t feel closed off. “And it’s pretty like you to overthink everything. Everyone’s got different sides to ‘em.”

Souji stared at him. Didn’t bother to force a smile. Echoing over two years past, he said, “Little pieces that make up a whole.”

Yosuke nodded. “Exactly.”

“The part of me that didn’t cry,” Souji said slowly, “isn’t all there is. Just like the part that hated him and the part that loves him and…”

He looked around the room and it was easy to remember when Minato used to fill so much of its space. All the time they spent lost in each other on the bed that would leave his sheets smelling like him, or when he would curl up on the desk chair and look up bands for Souji to download. Bands he still had on his MP3 player and suddenly it struck him that no matter if he sold the DVD collection or crushed the memory cards beneath his heel, there were always going to be bits and pieces that would last forever. A connection that would always tie them to one another.

Souji laughed a little.

“I’m not sure how comforting this is. It would be easier to deal with if people just felt one thing at a time. Ah – let’s go somewhere else,” Souji said suddenly, wiping his palms on his pants – when did they get so sweaty? “This is pretty much all there is to see here.”

“…Alright.”

Without Souji prompting him this time, Yosuke took his hand and followed him out. They stayed wordless as he locked the apartment back up, all through the elevator ride down to the ground floor, and only when they stood on the sidewalk outside the lobby did Souji speak.

He looked left and right along the street coloured by streetlights. The sun was just barely below the horizon and a cool wind was blowing, piercing their jackets. With his new haircut, Souji’s nape felt particularly bare. He rearranged his scarf but it didn’t do much.

“Where should I take you next? There’s a good arcade I know of.”

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Yosuke said. “We’ll get something delivered for dinner.”

“If you’re hungry, we can go somewhere. I know some good places. There’s no point in wasting time traveling back and forth.”

“Souji, you look like shit,” Yosuke said flatly. “You drove for seven hours straight and you’re going to have to do the same tomorrow, unless you wanna give me a crash course in manual transmissions. Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

“No,” Souji insisted. “Wait, there’s – there’s just one more place and then we can go back.”

Yosuke stared at him for a moment before squeezing his hand and nodding.

 

* * *

 

“Did Minato ever tell you how he killed himself?”

Maybe he didn’t notice it, but Souji was crushing Yosuke’s hand and it really fucking hurt. They weren’t holding hands so much as putting Yosuke’s through the wringer. Worst thing was he was doing it with a blank face. By this point Yosuke was able to read the subtle shifts in his face, and that particular one meant his mind was going a mile a minute.

As gently as he could, Yosuke reached over with his other hand and squeezed Souji’s wrist until he relented his grip, then rearranged their fingers, lacing them together. That way, if Souji still wanted to squeeze then at least he wasn’t breaking every bone in Yosuke’s hand. Souji just watched the whole thing, his expression barely changing.

“Oh,” he said, “sorry.”

“Just… pay more attention, maybe,” Yosuke said.

Souji hadn’t said so outright, and Yosuke hadn’t said anything after falling into this pattern of just following wherever he led, but their path had been taking them closer and closer to that bridge that led to the island.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Souji said.

“Uh… yeah. I mean no, he didn’t tell me. Just that he was depressed and then… that’s it.”

“Hm.”

Souji looked up at the bridge. He didn’t speak again until they were a couple blocks closer.

“Minato… didn’t want anything from me at first. He just wanted to be left alone. But I kept forcing my company on him because he… I don’t know. There was just something about him. Or maybe I just thought he was cute and that was it.”

Souji forced a laugh. One look at his face showed how fake it was. Yosuke just listened to him trying to make sense of things, waiting for him to move forward at his own pace. What Souji always used to do for him. Now their roles were reversed – or maybe there were no roles and they truly were equals. That was what a friendship was. A partnership, even.

“But then we started seeing each other and… I mean, you can’t be with someone if you don’t want anything from them. Wanting is part of love; it’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Yosuke said. Only then did he realize he’d been absentmindedly stroking Souji’s palm. He forced himself to stop. “Having people expect nothing from you sucks. They should believe in you, believe you’re capable. Think you’re up to the challenge and not just be… I dunno, complacent.”

“Yes, exactly,” Souji nodded. “I thought at first that I liked that he didn’t expect anything from me. It was a relief after trying to jump through hoops for my parents all the time. We’d both been passed over a lot in life, both through circumstance and our own faults. Then when people did want things from us, it wasn’t really about _us_. We found that in each other. We wanted each other _for_ each other and it was…”

They came up to a crosswalk and to their left was the road that would take them to the bridge, but Souji stayed still, just looking down its length. In the late evening light, it steel beams were pitch black. There was very little traffic.

“Have you ever heard that the opposite of love isn’t hate but –”

“– indifference,” Yosuke said. He was frowning a little, looking concerned. Souji didn’t bother trying to smile and reassure him – which was good. He didn’t want that; he was here because he wanted to see everything.

They started down the street leading up to the bridge.

“Minato killed himself by throwing himself into traffic.”

Yosuke stared at him, but Souji kept staring ahead.

“That’s partly why it was so easy to convince myself it was just an accident. He had a – a bike his aunt bought for him in some last ditch effort to get him out of the house more, and… well. Right down there.” Souji gestured limply down the bridge.

“Goddamn…”

“Yeah. It – it was always in the back of my mind, that he might think of killing himself. I knew he was depressed. But he never seemed… I had this image in my head of someone suicidal being an emotional wreck. Just crying all the time, breaking down. I only ever saw him cry a couple times. He always laughed about it afterwards. Said it was because the emotions were overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do other than cry. Said not to worry, it was no big deal.”

“He does have a weird sense of humor,” Yosuke said, and Souji laughed.

“Right?”

They stepped onto the bridge and Souji ran his hand along the railing.

“What pissed me off,” he said, “was that it – so many people who get hit by cars survive. He chose such a fucking half-assed way to kill himself. They didn’t even know it was suicide until they found the letter – if you could call it that.”

Yosuke stared at him, a little stunned. Hearing Souji sound angry added on to the topic at hand, and Yosuke’s chest felt like it was in knots.

“It would’ve been easier if he hated life, but he truly didn’t care whether or not he made it. If the opposite of love really is apathy, then… I don’t know where that leaves me. There’s nothing worse than being the one that cares more. Killing himself invalidated everything I did for him, felt for him, _was_ for him – and doing it in a way where he could’ve easily survived was just the final fucking insult.”

Souji let out a sharp breath. They kept walking while he looked out over the water far beneath them, head turned away so Yosuke couldn’t see what kind of face he was making – though he could guess, based purely on the tone of his voice.

Yosuke hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Wouldn’t it have been worse if he did it with conviction? I mean like, if he was sure he wanted to leave you?”

Souji shook his head. “If he had survived the accident, then he would have stayed with me by chance. After all, he only left me by chance. In a way it wasn’t of his own volition, he just tossed a goddamn coin, jerked his handlebars to the side and…”

At a loss for words, Yosuke gave Souji’s hand a squeeze, which he returned. Further along the bridge, it was starting to get a little breezy, the air blowing in off the water. Souji’s fingers were cold, so Yosuke put their hands in his coat pocket, which he smiled at a little.

“Is this your first time on the bridge after it happened?”

“Yeah. After school ended, all I had was work and I took the train. Then I moved.”

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m… better than I thought I would be,” Souji said. “It’s weird to talk about but… it does feel good.”

“Hmm?” Yosuke bumped his hip into Souji’s, almost hard enough to knock him into the railing. “What was that? Sounded like you said I was right all along?”

Souji laughed and looked down at his feet, but the smile was so genuine Yosuke felt elated. That was what he wanted. If only for a moment, he just wanted to lighten the mood and make Souji smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I admit it, you were right.”

He was doing better than Yosuke had expected. He’d thought Souji would break down in tears upon returning to where it had all happened, but Souji was holding it together pretty well.

“I actually don’t know where it happened,” Souji said, looking over his shoulder at the road they had already covered. “For all I know, we could’ve walked by it already.”

They weren’t quite near the middle of the bridge, but they were nowhere near land, either. There were no plaques, no memorials. There were no – a shiver of disgust rippled up Yosuke’s spine at the thought, but there were no stains on the asphalt. There had been no signs that a life had been given up on this bridge, and no matter how long they walked, Yosuke knew there wouldn’t be.

“The person that… was driving the car that hit him,” he started cautiously.

“I don’t know,” Souji said. “There were no charges laid. I guess there were witnesses to testify that Minato swerved or something. Plus, the letter.”

“Oh.”

Even so, that person was going to have to live with the fact they ran over a boy fresh out of high school. Yosuke looked past Souji and over the railing, into the water below. No matter if Minato had done it some other way, there would’ve been someone to find him. A sight that would stay with them for the rest of their life.

“It really was selfish,” Yosuke mumbled.

Souji nodded slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

 

* * *

 

“Did you notice how weird the soap smells?”

From where he sat on one of the two beds their hotel room, trying to fit their empty takeout containers into their only tiny garbage can, Souji watched Yosuke rubbing a towel over his damp hair. “No. I brought my own soap and shampoo.”

“Figures. Wish I was that weirdly prepared. It smells like…” Yosuke sniffed his arm as he tossed the towel onto the bathroom floor – which Souji made a disapproving noise at. “I don’t even know what that smell is. It’s like it’s supposed to be that musky, spicy kind of smell but it’s like… I want to associate it with old people, but I don’t know why.”

Souji snorted. Once he was done throwing everything out, he climbed under the sheets and nearly disappeared under them. All that was visible of him was his tuft of silver hair. No doubt he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He’d been through a lot after a seven hour drive. It made Yosuke feel a little useless to sit there and watch, but like he said, this was Souji’s show and all he could do was be there for him in whatever capacity he needed.

“Well,” Yosuke sighed, heading over to his own bed, “goodnight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite and all that, because you just know that this place is cheap enough to –”

“Yosuke.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come over here.”

Yosuke froze halfway through pulling back his sheets. “Souji…”

“Nothing like that. I just don’t want to be alone.”

As much time as he took hesitating and fidgeting, Yosuke had known from the moment Souji asked that he was going to say yes. It had been on his mind ever since Souji mentioned it was going to be an overnight trip, but it was nothing more than some weird imagined scenario that you really shouldn’t have about your best friend. But still, however disastrous their first attempt had turned out to be, things were different now, right? More open and honest and Yosuke was already walking over.

When he stood beside Souji’s bed, looking down at that lump under the blankets, he took a deep breath and said, “Alright. How’re we doing this?”

The rest of Souji’s head emerged from beneath the blankets as he held them back. “What do you mean?”

“I’m talking spoons,” Yosuke said, climbing into the warmth. “Who’s the big spoon, who’s the little spoon?”

“Ah. Hmm…” Souji looked absentmindedly at Yosuke’s chest once he was settled, pulling the blankets back up to their shoulders. “Do you have a preference?”

“That’s a stupid question. Everyone likes being the little spoon.”

“True,” Souji said seriously, stroking his chin. “This is quite the predicament. Janken?”

“Nah, turn around. I’ll be big spoon this time.”

Souji smiled but didn’t put up any fight, and why would he? Everyone truly did like being little spoon. But this left Yosuke panicking about where to put his arms and how close was too close. “Uh, lift your head,” and one arm slid under the crook of Souji’s neck to jut out awkwardly in front of them and the other… The other arm went over his waist, bent against the mattress so his hand came to rest somewhere near Souji’s chest.

“That comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

The matter of closeness was taken care of by Souji, who wiggled backwards until he was pressed right up against Yosuke. His hair was in his face, definitely not smelling like the weird hotel shampoo, and his ass was right there and now Yosuke had to worry about popping a boner. He should’ve chosen little spoon.

Yosuke sighed and rested his head against Souji’s. If he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, maybe the irritating way Souji’s hair kept tickling his nose would leave him too distracted to get hard. Doubtful, but he could hope.

“Tomorrow,” Souji said, “I’ll take you to some nicer places.”

“Sounds good.”

“And I’ll teach you to drive a manual. It’s easy.”

“Okay.”

“And when we get home, you can – you can tell Minato anything if he asks. I feel really bad about leaving him, but… I don’t know what else to do. I can’t talk to him like this. I don’t get how this is supposed to help either of us.”

 Souji touched Yosuke’s hand. He started toying with it, bending his fingers and massaging his knuckles. Squeezing his palm like he was feeling the bones, poking the veins that stood out.

“Well, he kind of, uh… guided us together,” Yosuke said. “I mean, that sounds kind of – but… y’know.”

“Yeah, I know.” The smile was audible in his voice, but Yosuke knew it was more out of laughter at his bumbling than anything else.

“And – and look at how you’ve changed already. Once he understands that you won’t be alone anymore, then maybe…”

“But where does that leave him? All there is for him is to just let everything go and that’s… what does he get out of that?”

“Rest? I know it’s messed up, but he did this to himself.”

Souji still held Yosuke’s hand, but he stopped playing with it. “He was _sick_ , Yosuke. It’s not his fault, he was –” He huffed angrily, something Yosuke felt as his shoulders pressed back against his chest. “I _hate_ what he did, but even so, he was sick, he –”

“Yeah, but you can’t blame everything on that. It’s about taking responsibility.”

“One wrong turn and that’s it? He has to pay for it with everything he has?”

“Hell of a wrong turn.”

For a while neither spoke or moved. Yosuke’s hand was still trapped between both of Souji’s, but he wasn’t toying with it anymore. Even between their body heat and the blankets, the room was still a bit chilly. The hotel really was a dump.

“It’s not fair.” Souji spread Yosuke’s fingers, pressing their hands together like he was comparing sizes. Souji’s fingers were longer; Yosuke’s palm was wider. “I want him back. I want a say in things for once. I’m tired of having my life depend on other people’s choices.” He slipped his fingers between Yosuke’s. His voice was starting to sound… wrong. “I meant it when I kissed you. I chose that for myself.”

Pressed that close, there was no way Souji couldn’t feel the way Yosuke’s heart was beating against his back. He opened his eyes but with his forehead pressed to the back of Souji’s head, there wasn’t much he could look at other than his neck, the bumps of his spine that disappeared under the neckline of his shirt.

“I… I meant it too.”

Souji let out a long, slow breath that cut short with a telltale jerk of his shoulders. Their hands felt good together, but Yosuke forced him to let go and tugged his shoulder until he turned around to face him. From racing to stopping cold, Yosuke’s heart was aching. A hot panic settled into the pit of his stomach at the sight of tears.

“It’s not _fair_.”

The way Souji cried was quiet and understated, nothing really changing in his face but his eyes growing wide and mouth pulling a little tight, but it was enough of a difference from normal to be a huge shock. Unthinking and moving on instinct, Yosuke hugged him close. It was a little awkward to do lying side-by-side, so he rolled onto his back just a bit, pulling Souji with him. There was something even worse about feeling the tears fall on his neck.

“You’re – you’re gonna be okay,” Yosuke said. For a lack of anything better, he rubbed Souji’s back clumsily. “But you don’t have to be right now, and… and that’s okay too. I’m here with you, no matter what.”

Souji’s arms made their way around his waist, hugging him tight. Yosuke sighed and stared up at the water stained ceiling, letting one of his hands trail up to Souji’s head. The bristly hairs at the nape of his neck felt odd; he wasn’t used to feeling hair that short. It was a stupid thing to focus on right then, but it was grounding, something to hold onto while he tried not to focus on the way Souji was far beyond just plain tears and his whole body was wracked with sobs.

Every now and then Yosuke whispered something he hoped was soothing – just “It’s okay” or “I’m here” – and eventually Souji’s shallow, choked breath came in a little smoother.

A long time after, a warm sigh tickled Yosuke’s neck.

“I cried,” Souji said. And he sounded – awed. A little pleased with himself.

Yosuke started laughing and he felt Souji’s cheeks move with a smile.

“You did. I’m proud of you, man. Feel better?”

“No,” Souji mumbled instantly. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m alright, just… tired. Thank you.”

One hand rubbing the back of his neck, Yosuke turned his head and nosed the side of Souji’s head which might’ve been pushing boundaries, but under the circumstances he thought maybe he could get away with it. Souji didn’t protest. It was fine.

“I really mean it,” Souji said, turning his head. And then they were so close their noses were touching. “Thank you.”

Yosuke barely stopped himself from nodding. It seemed a dangerous thing to do so close to one another. “Yeah. Yeah, no problem. I’m here for you, you know that. It’s what friends do.”

“Friends…”

Souji looked from eye to eye, his own glossy and red. There was a tear stuck of one of his bottom lashes that Yosuke couldn’t stop staring at. One of the hands trapped between his back and the mattress, its thumb was rubbing back and forth, just barely. About as much as it could manage.

“We should go to bed,” Souji said softly.

“Yeah.”

When neither moved, it became very clear they were going to sleep like this. The surprise was – or maybe it wasn’t surprising at all, because it happened so naturally that neither really reacted, but Souji moved forward and Yosuke tilted his head and just like that, they kissed.

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

 

* * *

 

Minato’s eyes were closed because if his eyes were open then all he would see would be Pharos looking down at him. Even in the dark, just by the glow of the TV. He could still feel the kid, of course; Minato’s head was resting on his lap and Pharos was braiding some of his hair.

 _“If this was a story,”_ Minato said slowly, _“would I be the villain?”_

_“I wonder.”_

_“Keeping the two lovebirds apart, nothing more than a bump in the road – in more ways than one. All the best villains are sympathetic. I bet I’d be a good one.”_

_“Is that how you think of yourself?”_

Minato cracked an eye open, only enough to look down at his hands laced together over his stomach. A little higher up and he’d look like a corpse in a casket, posing for the crowd. If there had been a crowd at his funeral. It was doubtful. Not to mention, his body had most likely been cremated.

_“What I think… is that I fucked everything up. That’s what villains do. If I went away, everything would be perfect and Souji and Yosuke could fall in love and do whatever the hell they wanna do. That’s what this is all about. One final gift for Souji then I get to fuck off forever.”_

Pharos didn’t say anything. Minato looked up. He was smiling.

_“You did it. They’re very happy together. Nothing is stopping you from moving on.”_

Minato looked beyond Pharos to the ceiling, watching the shadows from the tree outside wave slowly back and forth.

_“I wonder.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you guys as excited for [protagshipping week](http://protagshippingweek.tumblr.com/post/138419109645/round-2-of-protagshipping-week-through-march-21) as i am yeehaw


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys are interested, i've been posting some things that didn't make it into the story. [here](http://minasouyo.tumblr.com/post/142143030936/in-1633-souji-finally-opening-up-was-originally), [here](http://minasouyo.tumblr.com/post/142433094866/im-cleaning-out-my-writing-files-so-heres), and [here](http://minasouyo.tumblr.com/post/142440805691/ok-heres-another-1633-outtake-lmao-obv-from-the).
> 
> also!! [new fanart](http://cardcaptorbancho.tumblr.com/post/143292873694).  
> luv u all
> 
> ETA: and [more](http://undead-cypress.tumblr.com/post/143474501879/i-very-rarely-read-fic-and-i-still-have-the)!

Minato stopped taking his medication on the first day of their third year.

Officially, at least. That was the day he’d actively made the decision to stop, not counting the days he’d simply forgotten to take it.

“And you won’t listen if I tell you I think it’s a bad idea.”

“Nope.”

Souji rested his chin on his palm and watched Minato struggle to figure out the proper ratio of orange juice to vodka in a screwdriver. They had sake, which was easier and which Souji had already had some of, but Minato wanted this. He took an experimental sip and shrugged before offering the glass to Souji. Despite being a guest in someone else’s home, he wasn’t acting with many reservations; most likely because he harboured an uncharacteristic animosity towards Souji’s parents. Besides, drinking their alcohol had been Souji’s idea. The first rebellious one of his life, probably, and there was a thrill in that.

“The pills weren’t doing anything,” Minato said. He spun his stool toward Souji and put a finger to the bottom of the glass as he drank, tilting it up and laughing at his noise of protest. “Good?”

Souji put the glass down and swallowed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand in the way his parents always told him not to. “Tastes like orange juice but weird.”

They were at his parents’ apartment, seated at the bar that divided the kitchen from the dining room and, according to Minato, celebrating freedom. Souji’s parents were out of town, Minato’s aunt was too busy celebrating her birthday to care where he was, tomorrow was Sunday, and Minato was unmedicated. The night was theirs.

“I don’t get it. You’ve been doing so well lately.”

Minato shrugged, topping up the drink and sliding it over to Souji, and offered no better explanation. The ice clinked as he accepted it and took a sip. Souji let the matter go for now. When they weren’t drunk, he’d bring it up again. There had to be more to it.

“My parents are going to be mad we’re drinking all their stuff,” Souji said, swirling the drink around.

“Should we stop? They might not notice if we stop now,” Minato said. Souji barely considered it before shaking his head. “Ahh, such a delinquent.”

“That’s me,” Souji said listlessly.

Minato leaned sideways against the bar, propping up his head on his hand and grinning lazily. It was this grin of his Souji especially liked, with one side pulled higher than the other and heavily-lidded eyes that – maybe he was drunker than he thought, but they seemed to sparkle a bit beyond his eyelashes, such long eyelashes and yeah, Souji was starting to feel pretty buzzed.

He thought of Minato’s aunt for some reason, out celebrating her birthday. Celebrating like they were. Celebrations all around, except for Souji’s parents who were working because they were always working. They didn’t have friends, just co-workers. Associates. The only parties they went to were to further their social standing.

“How old is your aunt turning?”

“Hmm…” Minato leaned over further, resting his head on his arm and trailing a finger through the sweat on the outside of the glass. Souji watched him draw designs on the countertop with the water as he himself rotated side to side on his stool like a kid. “Late twenties, I think? Dunno. She’s my dad’s youngest sister and he was, uh, thirty… something – thirty-four when he kicked the bucket, so… I dunno. There’s math in there I don’t feel like doing.”

“I had no idea your parents were so young,” Souji said quietly. “It’s obvious, I guess, but – I never thought about it. We’re already half their age. That’s such a shame.”

“You think so?” Minato lifted his head and took another drink. This time he didn’t offer any to Souji. “It’s not that young. Everything pretty much peaks at thirty, right? Then you’re just old until you die.”

There were things to say about that, about living a good and long life or something. They were words stolen from a TV show Souji thought he might’ve seen once or twice or over the course of his whole life. Hollow words, not his words, because he was only seventeen and he had never experienced tragedy like Minato. He was starting to realize the world was so big and he didn’t know a fucking thing about anything outside of his books and TV shows. All he had was his sheltered life and other people’s words, so he stayed silent and watched Minato’s throat work as he swallowed his drink.

Minato shot him a sideways look and tilted his head back even further to finish off the rest of the drink in one go. “Anyway,” he said, slamming the glass down a little too hard. Glass against the marble counter. The noise rang out against the empty apartment. “Who cares.”

He leaned closer and for a moment Souji thought they were going to kiss until Minato stood up. He only took one step before staggering, holding a hand to his head.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m – I’m gonna see what else they have,” Minato mumbled.

He walked over to the fridge and peered inside, absentmindedly picking at a bag of grapes. Souji watched, still rotating back and forth.

“How mad do you think she’ll be when she finds out? My aunt, about my pills.”

Souji thought for a moment. From what he knew of her, he liked her at least a little and could sympathize with her position. It couldn’t have been easy for her to suddenly take in a teenager, not when she didn’t even have any kids of her own. But there was also something irritating about her. Such a common trend for adults to be so absent in their lives.

“Maybe she’ll get mad enough to kick me out,” Minato mused, smiling a little hollowly over his shoulder. “After all this time, I’d have to move again. That would figure, huh?”

“If you know she’ll be mad then why do it? Just stick with it. I really think you should. Don’t you want to get better?”

Minato didn’t answer. Just ate a couple more grapes. The silence dragged on.

“Hey.”

Souji got to his feet and just how drunk he really was hit him like a tonne of bricks. He fought it off with an iron will and walked over like nothing was wrong, until he misjudged the distance and bumped into Minato’s back.

“What’s wrong?” Souji slid his arms around his waist. “Talk to me.”

Minato let the fridge close, sighing and gently scratching his nails against the back of Souji’s hands, up his arms. “Do you realize that if things keep going like this I’m going to complete high school in just one school? I haven’t transferred since I started. You too. You did half your first year somewhere else, but…”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I’m just… rambling, I guess, I don’t know. I keep thinking about it.” Minato turned his head just enough to look at Souji out of the corner of his eye. “I can’t remember the last time I spent so much time in one place. It’s… good. Things are good. Stable.”

“They are,” Souji murmured, hugging him tighter and kissing his cheek. “I’m really happy.”

Minato stared at him, lips parted enough to show his teeth. His eyes started to glaze over like he was seeing something worlds away, drifting to the side with an absent thoughtfulness before abruptly returning to Souji with a small smile.

Souji pushed the hair out of Minato’s face so he could better see him and pressed a kiss to the freckle near the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and his jaw when Minato tilted his head with a pleasured breath.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.”

Souji made a curious noise, kissing down his neck.

“What I said about my dad and getting older,” Minato said. His voice jumped a little when Souji sucked gently. “I, uh… I’m always bringing the mood down and you’re always… I’m sorry. You put up with so much of my shit –”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true. I should make you smile more. You deserve someone that’s happier and –”

Souji touched his jaw to tilt his head more, exposing more of his neck and kissing where his pulse was strongest. Minato let out a shaky sigh. Drunk and a little put on the spot, Souji couldn’t think of the right words to say to take his mind off it. He wanted to, felt like he had to, but he couldn’t manage. That familiar anxiety of knowing he was failing someone settled into the pit of his stomach. He tried to kiss it away. It didn’t work.

Souji’s hand slipped up his shirt and Minato let out a trembling breath, reaching back and grabbing hold of Souji’s hair.

“And – I lied earlier,” Minato admitted quietly. “They worked too well.”

Souji stopped kissing his neck. “What do you mean?”

The way his head was turned, all Souji could see of Minato’s face was the slope of skin where his jaw met his neck. It shone a little in the weak kitchen light, wet from his tongue. The moment wasn’t right – he could recognize that even as he kissed that spot again, but he couldn’t stop himself. Or he just didn’t want to. Kisses were simple. Kisses he understood completely.

 “I don’t know,” Minato breathed, the fingers in Souji’s hair tightening. “Nevermind. Just keep doing that.”

 

* * *

 

“That was the doctor’s office,” his aunt said from the kitchen, putting the phone down on the table. “You missed your appointment?”

Minato stared at the TV. The protagonist of this movie was ronin and he met a little boy or the little boy was the protagonist and now they were on a journey somewhere. The samurai had something he had to atone for. A dark, horrible past.

“Are you listening?”

“I missed the bus,” Minato said.

“So instead of going late you just stayed home?”

“Yeah.”

It was the excuse he had needed. But he didn’t say that. Nor did he say that since she was going to talk to him, he was regretting watching movies downstairs instead of up in his room simply because the TV was nicer.

“Why? Aren’t you running out of pills?”

“I still have some left.”

“How? It’s been –” Arisato glanced to the calendar she had hanging on the wall in the kitchen. She wrote down every little thing that happened, kept track of it all. It must’ve been exhausting. “You should be out. Or… have you not been taking them?”

Minato didn’t say anything.

Her voice grew hard. “For how long?”

“They weren’t doing anything.”

“For _how long_?”

Minato shrugged.

She yelled at him then. While he stared at the TV and watched the samurai fight to protect the boy, she yelled about how she was trying and she didn’t get why he couldn’t do her the same courtesy. That she couldn’t help him if he wouldn’t help himself. He watched the movie and wondered if he would do the same in the samurai’s position. Putting someone else before yourself. It took a lot of character that he lacked, which he thought might’ve been along the lines of what his aunt was saying.

“Minato! Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

She wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t told himself.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” she said. “I’m trying, alright? I’m trying. You’re my big brother’s kid. He meant the world to me but you’re being so –”

She grunted in disgust and crossed her arms, turning away from him.

The movie started hinting the samurai’s debt would be paid with his life and suddenly Minato wasn’t enjoying it as much anymore. Too predictable. Left nothing to the imagination after the fact. He shut it off and got to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

Minato shrugged. He hadn’t thought about it but where else would he go? “My room.”

“I’m not done talking to you.”

“Okay,” he said simply, sitting back down.

Arisato stared at him, her upper lip curling. There was a long, long silence.

“I bought you a bike.”

Minato looked over at her. “What?”

“A bike. From some second-hand place down the road from – it’s not anything special. It’s out by my car, if you want to go see it.” Arisato shrugged her shoulders and turned her head. “I thought it might help you to get out of the house more. It’s easier to get around if you don’t have to rely on the bus, and it would do you a lot of good to be more active. You need sunlight and fresh air. When was the last time you just went for a walk or something?”

Days, weeks, he couldn’t tell. Time was blending together.

“Whatever,” Arisato said, tightening her arms around herself, “just get out of here. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Okay,” he said simply, getting back to his feet.

Minato took his time getting his DVD from the player, putting it back in the case, then finally heading for the stairs. Arisato didn’t move or say anything the whole time. Only when he was at the foot of the stairs did he hear her tell him, “Your parents would be very disappointed in you.”

Minato continued on his way. The words may as well have fallen on deaf ears.

 

* * *

 

“We’re very disappointed in you.”

Souji’s jaw clenched so hard he thought he might shatter his teeth. Shallow breaths and a racing heart had his chest aching, a sharp whine of a pain worse than his nails digging into his palm. His skin might puncture and bleed, but his lungs were going to stop working altogether and he was going to suffocate slowly.

“Why are you like this?” Souji’s father bumped into the table as he sat down, sending ripples across the surface of what was left of the vodka. Sitting on the table like incriminating evidence in some police drama. “We buy you everything you ask for, you get an allowance for nothing, spend it on all that inane garbage filling up your room… Is this how you repay us for everything we do for you?”

Frantic, Souji’s mind rolled back over itself, reminding him of every one of his failures (test scores lower than anticipated, stumbling over his words in front of their coworkers, failing to find a job, forgetting to do a load of laundry or leaving dishes in the sink, every little thing) even as it bitterly reminded him that his parents couldn’t even bother to yell at him together. His mother was in their office. Working. One or the other, never both parents. Rarely even that. He was something they had to take turns dealing with, like some kind of chore.

“Still, I suppose this is convenient.” His father sighed, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. “There’s something your mother and I have been meaning to talk to you about and this is as good a time as any. We got you a job, since you seem unable to find one on your own.”

Souji blinked. Blinked again and looked up. “What?”

“There’s a daycare at this branch for employees with young children they can’t leave at home. They’re looking for help so your mother pulled some strings. Provided you don’t mess up the interview you have on Thursday, you have a job. And I would like you to give some thought to giving up your clubs this year. I know basketball is important to you, but you have more important things to think about. Besides, with work, you won’t have the time.”

“It’s volleyball,” Souji said listlessly.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

His father slowly rose to his feet, hands flat against the table. An impressive display of the height Souji had inherited, a practiced move that he probably put to use during meetings at work. Added onto his strong, controlled voice, Souji felt himself practically shrink. “You need to get your act together. Not everything in life is going to be handed to you on a silver platter.”

Souji started to rise too, clumsy in his desperation. “Dad, I’m looking – you didn’t have to –”

“You’ve been _looking_ for over a year. Or so you say.”

“You seriously don’t believe me?”

His father gestured to the vodka bottle. “How can I?”

“That was -! It was _one time_ , Dad. We were just messing around.”

“‘We?’”

Souji shut his mouth and averted his eyes.

“Arisato’s boy was part of this?” His father waited for more, but all Souji could manage was a half-hearted shrug that said everything it needed to. “You thought it was a good idea to get drunk with our employer’s nephew?”

“He’s not just Arisato’s – he’s my friend,” Souji snapped.

His father scratched at his jaw with the rough noise of a five o’clock shadow. “That’s another thing I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. All the time you spend with that boy, the sleepovers… I’m glad the two of you get along but you’re getting a little old for sleepovers, aren’t you?”

Souji stared at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. It was getting hard to breathe. He wanted to run, to get out of there, but his father’s eyes were pinning him to the floor. A secret kept for almost a year. He could manage another until he was finally out of this house and then it wouldn’t matter.

“He’s my best friend,” Souji said faintly.

“I know that but you need to understand how it looks.” Maybe one day Souji would be able to look back on that moment and laugh, but at that moment the world was screaming din at him until he couldn’t think. “Takeba’s daughter works at the daycare as well. Why don’t you take this opportunity to get to know her?”

Souji nodded. Just to shut him up, to open an escape route, anything as long as it would put an end to this. “I understand. I apologize for any trouble.”

Agonizingly slow, his father pushed in his chair and grabbed the vodka bottle. As soon as his back was turned, Souji shoved a shaking hand in his pocket, looking for his phone and thinking only of Minato and the calm that came with him. He froze when his father paused halfway to the kitchen.

There was a look Souji could only place as hurt, but he’d never seen anything like it on his father’s face before. He couldn’t look at it.

“We’ve always given you a lot of leeway,” his father said, “because we believe you’re responsible enough to handle it. But maybe we were wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Souji said quietly.

There was a moment of silence before his father turned away again, throwing his parting words carelessly over his shoulder.

“We expect better of you.”

 

* * *

 

Minato’s hair was in his eyes. It was always in his eyes. Heavy and hot on the best of days, itchy and irritating on the worst, and always knotty in between. It had been short a while ago, not that different from Souji’s, but somewhere along the way routine haircuts became too much to bother with. Now it hung long enough to be nothing but a pain in the ass.

Feeling Souji’s fingers combing through it only made it bearable for as long as they were together. As soon as he was alone and everything began spiraling down, flaring up, he wanted it gone. All of it, gone. Everything, gone. Clothes that itched and constricted, food that tasted like nothing. A brain that couldn’t even be empty properly, filling the silence with nothing but the buzz of static that made something snap and then he was in the bathroom, holding his bangs in a fist before his eyes with one hand, opening and closing a pair of scissors with another.

Deciding, deciding, did he want to do this? Did he even care? Nothing would change but he just needed his hair _gone_. Some impulse was telling him to just chop it all off. He needed to not feel anything, not have anything touch him, and the hair tickling his face was driving him up the wall. Or he needed to feel _more_ , to be sure that he was capable of feeling, and regret was something. He needed something, wanted nothing, and he still hadn’t figured any of it out when his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

> Can I call you?

Souji. Minato placed the scissors down on the edge of the counter, carefully, and looked at his phone as another message came in. Beside it was a thumbnail of Souji’s face. A picture Minato had taken while he was engrossed in a book, highlighted by the sun.

> yeah. everything ok?

Almost immediately his phone began to vibrate with Souji’s call. Before answering, Minato looked in the mirror. At his hair, the longest it had been in a while. Messy and unwashed.  At the dark circles under his dull eyes.

“Souji? What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… yeah.”

Slowly, Minato turned away from the mirror and headed out the bathroom, down the hall, and into his room. All the while, the only sound coming from the phone was the sound of Souji’s breathing. Lowering himself onto his bed, Minato crawled under the sheets, lying with the phone balanced on his ear so he didn’t have to hold it up.

Minato closed his eyes. “Did you have a bad day?”

“It’s better now.”

Minato smiled to himself. Judging by the tiny breath of laughter on the line, Souji knew. For a while they did nothing but listen to each other breathe, occasionally sniffing or clearing their throats.

“It’s just… my parents. The usual.”

“They found out we were drinking?”

Souji let out a sharp breath. Minato figured it was supposed to be a derisive laugh, but it didn’t quite manage that before being cut off. “They’ll let their coworkers get me drunk, but if I choose to do it on my own time, suddenly I’m the worst son in the world.”

“Can you get out?”

“What?”

“Come over.”

Even as he offered, Minato wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. At that moment, he thought he might just like to be alone. To not exist. Not necessarily to die, but to just stop being. There was a difference, he told himself. But having someone you loved was supposed to help. Someone who loved you. It was supposed to fix the pain and make you whole again. If that was what it took, then Minato would throw himself into everything the two of them had. And maybe then he could be a proper human being.

Souji would like it because for some reason, Souji liked him. Loved, even.

Unless Minato wanted to lose the only good thing in his life, he needed to be happy and available. Otherwise Souji might grow weary of the weight Minato was always dragging around. If he had to bear twice as much so that Souji carried none at all, then he was willing. He was worth less; it was his responsibility to do at least that much.

“I didn’t… I didn’t have a good day either,” Minato said. He looked at his hand as if he could still see the scissors in it. “Come over.”

Another breath on the line. This one longer, needier. Like one a starving man might let out after setting his eyes upon a feast. “They’ll hear me leave.”

“Does it matter at this point?”

Silence. Then, “I guess not. Okay. I’ll be over in a bit. I’ll message you when I’m at the corner store.”

There was no sense of relief or really anything at all. Minato nodded and breathed a small assent. Souji parted with words of love that Minato returned easily. Playing them over and over and over in his head long after they hung up, he waited with an arm over his eyes, listening to nothing but his own heartbeat, his breathing, his body continuing to exist.

 

* * *

 

Minato passed through the school gates, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He felt like shit and had for a while. A couple days in a row was just a bad period; that happened to everyone. Weeks of it was… he didn’t know what.

What happened at work yesterday hadn’t helped.

A couple girls stood in his way halfway up the path. First years, by the look of them. Only a couple years difference, but they seemed so young. Had he looked like that when he was their age? One of them caught his eye as he passed and looked away with a nervous expression. He tried assessing what kind of face he was making. Was he that scary? It wasn’t like he was some 200cm giant.

Something touched his hand. He spread his fingers, easily allowing Souji to slide his hand in his with a, “Good morning.”

Minato looked over at him and smiled. Souji always claimed not to be a morning person, but he still always managed to function better than most. Thankfully his cheer was usually pretty subdued and therefor bearable.

“Guess who called back last night? I got the job.”

“Ah. Good thing we celebrated freedom while you had it.”

“Hm. But now I can spoil you properly. It’s not as nice when I’m using my parent’s money.”

“Figured you’d buy more robots,” Minato said. He stifled a yawn behind his hand. “You know how I like making out while your dolls watch us.”

“They’re not dolls.”

Minato forced a small laugh, hoping it was believable. The weight on his chest was only growing. Not even being with Souji was helping, especially not when there was a similar weight in his voice.

“We should celebrate,” Minato said as the idea came to him, even though just the thought of it was exhausting. Souji would like it. That was all that mattered. “Again.”

Souji smiled as they began to climb the steps to the front doors. “How?”

“Uh… dunno. I’ll think about it.”

Souji paused, bringing Minato to a stop as well. Other students were still trying to get inside, so Souji tugged him to the side, out of the way. He leaned against one of the large pillars, a frown on his face. “Minato, is everything okay? You seem off lately.”

“Yeah, everything is great,” came out automatically. Souji kept frowning. Minato rocked onto the balls of his feet and looked down the path at the students ambling toward them. He wasn’t going to do this here. “We should go, we’ll be late for homeroom.”

“Minato.”

Souji was rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand. He never seemed to have many qualms about being publicly affectionate, no matter the social taboos or general embarrassment. The only time he shied away from it was in front of his parents and Minato’s aunt, who still didn’t know. The way Minato figured it, Souji was probably half-hoping word would get back to his parents just so he didn’t have to be the one to bring it up to them.

“I got fired.”

It slipped out. He hadn’t meant to do this in public. Souji’s thumb stilled.

“What? Why?”

“All the days I’ve been missing lately,” Minato said to the ground, rubbing his chin. “Apparently there have been complaints about me being rude to customers, too. Because I don’t smile and act all bubbly.”

“They – they can’t do that. If you gave them a doctor’s note or something – there’s gotta be some law against that. They can’t do that.”

Minato shrugged, still staring at the ground. Souji sighed and Minato heard the smack of him slapping his forehead.

“And I was just talking about – Minato, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine; there’s no way you could’ve known. I don’t care, anyway.”

“But –”

“Souji! Minato!”

Whatever bubble they were in popped and the two of them turned to see familiar faces making their way up the stairs: Rio and Yuko. Without thinking, Minato moved so that his and Souji’s hands were hidden. Souji’s grip tightened and Minato’s toe started tapping. Gone, he just wanted them gone. He wanted to be alone. Whether he even wanted Souji there, he didn’t know.

“Are you coming to volleyball today?” Yuko stuck her thumbs under her backpack straps and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Kaz just messaged me; a couple of them are thinking of getting together after–”

“No.” Souji’s voice came out so abrupt and cold, even Minato was surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Yuko come to a frigid halt. “I’m busy.”

“There’s no need to be so rude,” Rio said. Souji stared at the ground, jaw set, looking conflicted if not pissed off. Taking that as a sign, Rio took Yuko’s hand and pulled her away, leaving Souji and Minato in an awkward silence.

“Keep that up and you’re gonna get fired, too.”

Souji let out a breath of laughter before closing his eyes and kneading his forehead. “I feel bad. But I just… I don’t care about that right now. Are you seriously alright?”

“It’s fine, I told you.” Minato looked over his shoulder just so he wouldn’t have to look at Souji, letting his grip become a little slack. “Hey, you should get to class. Don’t wanna mess up that perfect attendance record.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Nn… no,” Minato drawled, stringing it out, making it sound like a question. “No, I think I’m gonna… go get a coffee or something. I can’t – I can’t be here right now.”

Before he could say anything, Minato stood on his tiptoes and gave Souji a quick kiss. Despite the torn look on his face, Souji returned it, even pulling him closer with a hand fisted around his uniform jacket.

“Are you coming back?” Souji spoke softly, and Minato didn’t miss the need in his voice.

“I’ll be back for lunch. I’ll bring you back something good and we can celebrate your job on the roof or something.”

Souji sighed and tilted his head with a reproachful look. Mustering all his will, Minato smiled as naturally as he could, only to have it returned with an unimpressed face. Like their roles were suddenly reversed. It was heavy. He had to wonder how Souji did it.

 

* * *

 

 **Souji** [20:04] There’s a flea market on the waterfront this weekend.

 **Souji** [20:08] I got my first paycheck and I want to spoil you. Let’s go, let’s go!

 **Minato** [20:010] ur in a good mood. u sure u dont wanna spend money on more figures or something?/

 **Souji** [20:11] I’m talking to you, how could I not be?

 **Minato** [20:11] ew

 **Souji** [20:12] Anyways, I can manage both. I’m a fiscally responsible disappointment to my parents.

 **Minato** [20:14] no spend it on something important. and dont pity me bc of my job or w/e

 **Souji** [20:14] ???

 **Souji** [20:15] I’m not…

 **Souji** [20:15] You are important.

 **Souji** [20:34] Minato?

 **Souji** [21:01] Are my messages sending…?

 **Minato** [21:16] yeah  

 **Minato** [21:17] whatever its up 2 u. its ur money.

 **Souji** [21:20] Are you alright?

 **Minato** [21:21] yep! sorry, just making something to eat. im up for it

 **Souji** [21:23] Okay… Well, I’ve never been to a flea market before. How exciting.

 **Minato** [21:24] haha

 **Souji** [21:25] I can’t wait. I miss you!

 **Minato** [21:31] me too

 **Souji** [21:36] Meet me at work on Saturday and we’ll head over.

 

* * *

 

Souji crouched down, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Hey, Ken.”

Ken looked at him over the top of his book. “Hello.”

“What’re you doing way over here? Kinda lonely, isn’t it?”

“I’m reading,” he said. A little shortly, but more awkward than unkind. He spared the other children a glance before turning back to his book. Souji recognized the cover; it was from a series aimed at an audience a little older than him. “They’re all so noisy I can’t concentrate.”

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Oh – no, I didn’t mean that. You’re okay.”

They were in the corner of the daycare, in a circle of assorted beanbag chairs. Ken had chosen the most neutrally coloured one, so Souji plopped down on the one beside him. Leopard spotted. He stretched his legs out and let his head fall back, exhaling a weary sigh. He still wasn’t used to how exhausting this job could get, chasing after screaming children and making sure they didn’t do bodily harm to themselves or others.

Ken was nice, though. The oldest kid there and bitter as hell about it. Souji liked him a lot.

“Shouldn’t you be making sure Gorou doesn’t cut off anyone else’s hair?”

Souji looked over his shoulder. The five-year-old in question was currently swinging from the arms of one of the other handlers and screaming with mirth. “He’s alright for now.”

Ken’s smile was almost hidden by his book. Souji stared at him, idly toying with the hem of his shirt. Granted he’d never had much experience with children before getting this job, but he’d never met a kid like Ken before. Even to the most inexperienced, it was clear how different Ken was from the others at the daycare – though he did slip up now and then.

It always made Souji think about how he might’ve appeared to others when he was Ken’s age. Not really mature; just quiet and obedient. Doing what he had to (or maybe that was maturity, who knew). Ken might’ve been somewhat similar. It was just him and his mom, so he probably had more responsibilities than these other kids. Though it said something nice that she was still keeping him here; at his age, Souji’s parents had already stopped paying for a babysitter and just left him on his own.

Souji looked over his shoulder again, watching the others play. There may as well have been a physical line between them.

“They sure are noisy.”

“Yes,” Ken said shortly.

“But they’re having fun. That’s good.”

Ken fidgeted with the corner of his page before turning it, and didn’t say anything. Souji let it go, sinking further into his chair. If he closed his eyes he knew he’d fall asleep. It was tempting but his shift wasn’t over yet. Just as the thought came to him, a weight pressed down on his foot and he opened his eyes to find a young girl standing on him.

“Good afternoon, Ume-chan.”

She giggled and pressed down with two feet, both easily fitting on just one of his.

“ _Ouch!_ ” Her laughing was starting to get loud, probably distracting Ken.  In one swift movement, Souji picked the girl up under her armpits and got to his feet, lifting her into the air. He sat her on his hip and leaned over a little to add to Ken, “I have the book that comes after that. You wanna borrow it?”

Ken looked a little excited before he got his face under control. “You read this series? Aren’t you kind of old for it?”

Souji shrugged. “I’ll bring it in on Monday.”

Before Ken had the opportunity to deflect, Souji spun away, taking a squealing Ume with him.

“Seta.”

Almost immediately, he nearly bumped into Yukari. Souji came to a halt just short of bowling her over.

“Hey. Did Tsubame tell you about the soap dispenser in the bathroom?”

“Yes,” she sighed, sounding every bit like the day had been just as long for her. “But that’s not what I was going to say. There’s someone here for you.”

Souji followed her gesture to the entranceway. ‘Someone’ stood with his back to them, hands in his pockets while he looked at some of the children’s paintings that hung on the wall. Dressed in all black, Minato stood out against the bright colours, though his blue hair matched. As Souji watched, one of the kids separated from the group and made her way over. She stood beside him and Minato visibly tensed, taking a subtle step to the side. Souji bit his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

Minato was early. Minato was never early. That must’ve meant he was looking forward to hang out. After hurried goodbyes to Yukari and Ken, Souji headed over, trying to quell the childish eagerness making his heart beat.

“That one’s mine,” the girl was saying proudly, pointing to a picture of a family of three. Minato didn’t say anything, which she took as an invitation to keep talking. “Look, your hair’s the same colour as my dad’s pants. How’d you get it to look like that?”

“Dyed it,” Minato said shyly.

“Looks kinda funny. I like it.”

Minato kneaded his palm with his thumb. Souji had seen him shy and anxious before, but rarely rendered speechless. Taking pity on him, Souji lengthened his stride.

“Would you like to dye your hair a funny colour, Maiko?” She and Minato both turned around and the relief on Minato’s face was clear, but Souji’s attention was briefly taken by the camera hanging around his neck. Another sign Minato was looking forward to today. “We can all match. What about… purple? Ume can go pink.”

Maiko giggled and shook her head. “No!”

“Green?”

“Ew!”

“No sense of adventure,” Souji sighed, coming to stand beside her. He shifted Ume on his hip and placed his free hand on Maiko’s head, giving Minato a small smile. “What about you, Ume? You want pink hair?”

Ume was staring at Minato. Minato stared back until she turned hid her face against Souji’s shoulder.

“Jeez, you’re scaring her. Don’t glare.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Just smile.”

“I don’t –” Minato shook his head jerkily, staring at the floor.

Souji placed Ume on the floor, saying something to Maiko about taking her to see if there were any animal crackers left. With the younger girl in hand she left easily, back straight with the pride of responsibility. As soon as they were gone, Minato’s composure changed. His shoulders sagged and he took a step toward Souji, not reaching out to take his hand, but standing close.

“You’re early,” Souji said, taking his hand for him. “Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Souji touched his cheek. There was a lack of… everything from him. Lately it was just standard for him to be sluggish. Back when they first met, he’d been quiet and awkward and distant, but not drained and empty. It must’ve had something to do with the pills. While he’d been on them, he seemed really happy. But he gave that up. None of this made sense.

 “Are you sure you’re up to go to the flea market? We can go some other time. You look like you could use a good rest.”

Minato nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Souji let his hand fall to his side and didn’t say anything. It sounded like a lie but Minato didn’t lie. He was reticent but honest to a fault when he did speak. Really, none of this made sense.

Minato hunched his shoulders and rubbed his arm anxiously, looking at where Maiko had stood. “I don’t know how you do it; kids make me so nervous. With the two of them, you looked like a father.”

“Oh? Did it suit me?”

Minato nodded. Souji smiled.

“I wanted to get a picture of it but the kids intimidated me,” Minato admitted quietly.

Souji looked over his shoulder, watching the kids play for a bit. Yukari was kneeling before a boy, trying to get him to spit out something he had in his mouth.

“I dunno if I’d want to be a father,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a lot of responsibility. Doesn’t take much to mess a kid up for the rest of their life.”

“No shit? I would’ve figured that’d be your dream. Have a kid, settle down. Never move again.” Minato swung their hands a little, eyes on the floor. “But I guess settling down is kind of scary in its own way.”

Souji grunted noncommittally, rubbing his jaw. The only thing imagining the future ever got him was seeing himself as a younger version of his father. At one point his parents had been his age, in his same position. Had they pictured things turning out this way? Working constantly? What else was there in life? You needed to work to survive.

“Eh…” Souji curled his lip and shook his head. “I don’t wanna think about that. I’ve still got half an hour left until the parents start coming to pick up their kids. Are you alright waiting?”

“Yeah. There’s a café down the road.”

They parted with a quick kiss Maiko later teased Souji about seeing. And even though there was an odd feeling in the back of his head the entire time, the rest of his shift passed easily enough.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, I like this.”

Souji picked up a hat – a black and round bowler – and put it on his head. When Minato completed the look with a pair of huge white rimmed sunglasses, he rested his chin between his thumb and index and struck a pose.

“How does it look?”

“You look like a celebrity avoiding paparazzi.” He lifted his camera and took a picture. “One that’s not doing a very good job.”

“What about you? See anything you like? You haven’t bought anything yet.”

Minato plucked the sunglasses off and put them on himself, checking his reflection in a small mirror standing on the display. Adjusting with his overlong bangs, he shrugged.

All around them were booths stuffed with everything they could’ve wanted. As far as Souji could see, it wasn’t sorted any particular way, unlike a department store. Knockoff brand name clothes were being sold beside handmade spice racks and wind chimes. There was a kind of chaos about it. He made him a little antsy, but he liked it and probably found more excitement in it than most might. One thing he liked about living in the city was the variety of people you tended to see. It seemed that flea markets gathered the most interesting from opposite ends of the spectrum together.

“If you feel guilty about spending my money,” Souji said, watching someone walk by with an iguana on their shoulders, “you shouldn’t. I want to buy you something. Whatever you want.”

Minato put the sunglasses back on the display and started walking. “Yeah.”

The next booth was full of clothes Souji would never have the nerve to wear. Minato seemed more interested than he expected, constantly reaching out to finger the fabric. He listened intently when the person sitting behind the table explained they were a local designer with their own store downtown, accepting their business card with a small nod and enraptured look.

Souji rummaged through a nearby rack while they spoke, stealing glances covertly enough that Minato wouldn’t think he was being watched. The sluggishness hadn’t really gone away but he was trying hard not to show what he was feeling. He wasn’t a very good actor.

As soon as the person running the stall was distracted by someone bringing them food from a nearby ramen cart, Souji turned to Minato.

“Hey, what about this?”

He held up a t-shirt, thick black and white horizontal stripes.

“What about it?”

“Do you like it?”

Minato shrugged. “I don’t hate it. It’s just a t-shirt.”

“It would look good on you,” Souji said softly, holding it against his chest. Minato tilted his head so the hanger didn’t jab him under the jaw.

“It’s just a t-shirt…”

“But…” Souji adjusted his grip on the hanger, covertly brushing a finger against Minato’s neck. His Adam’s apple jumped. “The stripes are bold but nothing too flashy. Stands out in its own way, you know what I mean? Such a thing suits you.”

Souji curled a strand of Minato’s blue hair around his finger, shining vibrantly in the sun.

“Do you like it?”

Minato nodded slowly, looking at the ground. As they moved under the canvas tent to pay, something sitting on a stack of boxes seemed to catch his eyes. Souji watched him, getting his wallet out of his back pocket.

“You want those too?”

Minato tore his eyes away from the clunky combat boots and shook his head. “Nah. Just wondering if they’d make me any taller.”

“We’ll take those too,” Souji told the shop owner, not bothering to ask Minato again. “Do you have them in a 26?”

“I don’t even know how you know my shoe size,” Minato said ten minutes later. The heat and fatigue had won out and they were sitting on a bench by the waterfront, licking ice cream cones they’d gotten from a cart. Minato was already wearing the boots.

Mouth full, Souji laughed a little thickly. Then he swallowed, frowning thoughtfully. “Actually, I don’t either.”

For the first time all day – maybe even since days before – Minato smiled.

“You’re odd,” he said. “I hope you never change.”

Souji grabbed the camera sitting on Minato’s lap, but by the time he raised it to his eye, the smile had already disappeared. The only picture he was able to get was a blur of blue hair as Minato snapped his head around to hide his face.

Souji placed the camera back down and sighed. Minato shrugged and didn’t say anything. All the pictures he was always taking of everyone and everything else, and he never liked his being taken. Leaning against his arm, Souji watched him lift his leg and roll his ankle to get a good look at the boots from all angles, the new leather creaking stiffly. As if to further prove the point, he even took a few pictures.

They finished their ice cream in silence, listening to the chatter of the crowds and faint music coming from different booths and meshing together. The breeze coming in over the water was cool, but the sun was pleasantly warm, even as it neared the horizon. Setting behind the Moonlight Bridge and throwing it into shadow, creating an impressive silhouette.

Souji held out his arm, underside-up, and felt the last of the day’s warmth against his skin. He was pale from the winter months, but outdoor volleyball training would soon leave him tanned. Unless he quit like his parents wanted.

He’d already missed some practices because of work. It was unfair to give his teammates a half-assed effort. Work was more important and he knew that. Volleyball and drama were just hobbies that would never get him anywhere. Wastes of time he would never seriously pursue. That left… what? Work. Just work.

“Hey,” Minato said quietly, bringing him out of his reverie. He nudged Souji’s leg. “Uh… I had fun today. Thank you.”

Again Souji took the hand that was offered to him and laced their fingers together. He couldn’t tell if that was another lie or not. Minato wasn’t giving him much to work with.

“Souji.”

Despite there being people around, Minato touched Souji’s jaw and turned his head to place a gentle kiss against his lips. Souji squeezed his hand and pushed it a little further, sucking his bottom lip. Like their first time, it tasted like strawberry ice cream when he ran his tongue along it. Minato hummed and ended the kiss, resting his forehead against Souji’s.

“Love you.”

Easily, predictably, Souji felt the clouds in his head part a little. There was warm sunshine inside and out. He kissed Minato’s cheek.

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Souji stirred, straightening his legs until he felt a pull up the back. He’d gotten so used to the position he was sleeping in that almost felt like he didn’t even have a body. Moving brought everything back. Without opening his eyes, he let his mind wander through his body, finding everything again. The light weight of the blanket and the way his hand rested against the pillow, fingers curled. Stretching his legs had rolled his pajama pants uncomfortably up to his knees and bent his leg hair back until his skin prickled. With a sharp breath of irritation, he kicked his leg out in an attempt to fix both problems but hit something that grunted in pain.

“Sorry,” Souji mumbled. He cracked an eye open for a moment before closing it again and smiling. “Minato, are you watching me sleep?”

“Yeah,” came the soft reply. Easily given and without embarrassment. Some things were easier to admit in the dark. “You were dreaming about something.”

Souji thought back but he couldn’t make out much beyond a general sense of things. Lofty office buildings and muted colours.

Minato touched his hip and the mattress moved as he inched closer. “What does Souji Seta dream about?”

“Becoming his father.” Another admission eased by the night.

There was a pause, then Minato let out a small laugh. “Your subconscious is as straightforward as you are.”

Souji smiled and ran his hand up and down Minato’s arm. Minato’s hand slipped under Souji’s shirt, warm and soft, and Souji brushed the hair out of his face to rest his hand against his cheek. The only light was whatever feeble glow came from the city outside the window. Everything was all shadows and midlights.

“What about you? Can’t sleep?”

Minato shook his head. “Nope.”

Souji hummed and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. Just over Minato’s shoulder, he could see his clock glowing 2:42.

“I’m sorry I was kind of off today – yesterday, whatever.”

“It’s okay,” Souji reassured.

“No it’s not. You were trying so hard and I was – I should be happier. Everything is going well lately but I’m still just… like this.”

Souji stared at the numbers for so long his eyes started to sting. They changed to 2:43 as Minato took a deep, trembling breath. From somewhere outside his room, Souji heard quiet footsteps make their way down the hall, passed his door, on their way to the kitchen. Everything felt a little odd, the way things often do in the small hours.

Souji asked quietly, “Why did you stop taking your pills?”

“Because they made me too fucking happy,” Minato said, taking his hand out of Souji’s shirt. “I didn’t feel like myself and I was laughing all the time like a fucking idiot but it didn’t feel real and I _hated_ myself. I fucking – I’m so used to being miserable that I don’t –”

He exhaled sharply, pressing his hands to his face, and stayed like that for a moment. When he lowered them, he looked completely normal.

“Sorry,” he laughed a little.

“Minato, if you want to talk about it –”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

Someone ran water in the kitchen; one of his parents were getting a drink. Souji’s dream kept coming back to him in incomprehensible bursts. Feelings more than pictures. Sleep clawed at his brain, made everything an effort, like he was physically and mentally covered in a thick sludge, weighing him down. And he was irritated. Pissed off, tired of swallowing ugliness to keep it away from everyone else, and Minato always told him to act how he felt instead of putting up a show, so fine.  

“Fine.” Souji rolled over to show Minato his back. “Whatever. Let me know when you feel like having an actual fucking conversation.”

Middle of May and it felt cold enough to be December. No part of them touched and with the way Minato hogged them all, rolling over had brought Souji to the edge of the blankets.

It took a long, long time for Minato to hesitantly touch Souji’s back. Just a hand flat against his spine, and when he didn’t fight it, Minato moved closer, readjusting the blankets over them and pressing against his back. Legs tangled, forehead against his shoulderblades. He didn’t say anything but neither did Souji. It took a long, long time for either of them to fall asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

_“In most places, suicide is considered a sin.”_

Pharos sat crosslegged, looking down at Minato and taking in every word. He was so small, his skin so clear and young. Unmarred by the world. He looked just like the pictures Minato had of his childhood. He could have been a little brother and suddenly, all at once, Minato felt the isolation of being an only child. It would have been nice to grow up with someone. To have someone be there no matter what. Though, he supposed, there was no guarantee a sibling would have made it out of the accident, too. Having a sibling could have been endlessly worse.

 _“‘Thou shalt not kill,’”_ Minato recited. _“But it’s more of a responsibility thing here. Taking responsibility for your mistakes.”_ He let out a small, wavering laugh. _“Better to be dead than to be a burden.”_

Pharos moved – the mattress didn’t – to lay down beside Minato, gazing at him with those oceanic eyes. Hands folded neatly under his head. Minato’s were grasping handfuls of his own shirt, arms crossed over his stomach. Some kind of pathetic self-hug.

 _“I can’t count the number of times I wiped the smile off Souji’s face,”_ Minato said, eyes drifting closed.

_“Can you count the number of times you put it there?”_

Minato opened his eyes. Pharos was looking back, simple curiosity on his face.

 _“I… I don’t think you ever told me what you are,”_ Minato said, frowning slightly. _“What is it? You’re like a guide, right?”_

Pharos smiled a little, highlighted by the morning sun. Minato turned his head and stared past him, at the wall. At Yosuke’s poster of a girl in a bikini frolicking on the beach.

_“You know, first time I saw you, I kept thinking I’d just hallucinated. Figured all this isolation was getting to me.”_

_“I’m here,”_ Pharos said.

_“Yeah. Then… can you at least give me a hint? How am I supposed to settle things with Souji if he can’t even see me?”_

Pharos tilted his head. _“How can he see you if you’re hiding?”_

Minato looked at him.

_“Oh.”_

 

* * *

 

“I wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone I knew,” Souji said, “but it’s kind of disappointing that I didn’t. Guess that kind of thing only happens in movies.”

Yosuke glanced over at him before turning his attention back to the road. Souji’s feet were up on the dash and his head was resting against the window, watching the scenery pass by. They were somewhere just outside of Inaba. Its streetlights were on the dark horizon and everything was starting to look familiar again.

“But it feels good that I went. I think it was the right thing to do.” Souji looked over. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah. I mean… in spite of everything, it was fun. I’ve never done anything like that before. Just getting away for a day.”

“Yeah,” Souji said softly. Yosuke could hear the smile in his voice. “And you even picked up a new skill. You’re doing well.”

Yosuke snorted and rubbed his palm against the steering wheel. “It’s easy in the country; it’s all just one speed. All that grinding in the city – I’m pretty sure you should go get your transmission checked out, make sure I didn’t mess anything up.”

“Heh. I will.”

After an hour of learning standard in the parking lot of one of Iwatodai’s malls, it was Yosuke that drove them home. Souji offered many times to take it in hour shifts, but he looked exhausted and it was the least Yosuke could do after he got them there. Just as well: Souji had spent most of the drive sleeping.

They were both tired; their night in the motel hadn’t been too smooth. At first it had been full of whispers and laughter about how uncomfortable the bed was, and then nighttime anxieties took over and Souji had spent a lot of it with his face in his hands, crying, like once the floodgates were open, it just wouldn’t stop coming.

After waking up, they wandered the city. Souji took him to some places, showed him the sights, did the whole tourist thing. But there was always a weight over them.

“I had this whole scenario all planned out where I accidentally ran into Minato’s aunt,” Souji admitted, eyes closed. “I don’t know if that’s what I want, though. I think I’m just as mad at her as I am at myself. For not seeing the signs, for giving him that fucking bike, for being exactly like my parents and not being home enough. Losing a nephew has to be hard, but there’s nothing to say between us.” He shook his head and frowned. “I can’t take that job she keeps offering me, but I don’t know what else to do with myself.”

“You’ll figure it out. And it’s okay if you don’t,” Yosuke said, rubbing his chin pensively.

Souji laughed a little. “Yeah.”

That comfortable warmth carried them all the way through Inaba’s streets, right up until they pulled up to Yosuke’s house. He stared up at the second floor window he knew was his, but he couldn’t see Minato. It wasn’t like he was expecting Minato to be hanging out of it, waiting for him, but it felt a little ominous somehow.

“Hey.”

Souji sat up, hands balled into fists on his thighs, back rigid and avoiding Yosuke’s eyes.

“It means a lot that you did this with me,” he said evenly. “Everything you’ve done, it means a lot. You’re a good friend and a good person, and… I was mad when I first found out you knew everything all along. But I’ve been thinking about it and it was all you could do. You didn’t ask to be put in this situation. Um… it’s kind of like you were watching out for me, so… thank you.”

Souji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Yosuke watched, mind empty. It was still bizarre seeing him talk so much, and it must’ve felt even stranger for him; the effort showed on his usually placid face.

“Really, thank you for everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course –”

“But –” Souji shook his head “– but last night, the kiss, and uh… I’m not… ready for a relationship right now.”

Yosuke stared, the world dropping out from underneath him. Everything crashed in around him but all it resulted in was numbness.

“Unless I was misinterpreting…?”

“You weren’t,” Yosuke said hollowly.

He knew, it was always in the back of his head, but hearing it hurt. Just for one night spent together, two days walking around hand-in-hand, he’d allowed himself to forget. Now it was all coming back in a rush.

“God… I didn’t want to lead you on or anything, but –”

“No, it’s… I know it’s too early, but I still… it’s my fault, I fucked up. Sorry.”

“You didn’t, I’m – God, I’m – I’m a wreck right now,” Souji muttered, kneading the heel of his palm across his forehead, “and I’ve dragged you into it. I won’t ask you to wait or –”

“I’ll wait,” Yosuke said quickly. It came out desperately enough for him to be embarrassed, even with everything else. “I’ll wait, Souji, you don’t have to ask. And you don’t have to rush or anything. I’ll – I’ll be here.”

Souji was frozen for a moment before nodding.

They sat in an awkward silence, listening to the truck’s engine and the faint music playing out of the speakers. Whatever song it was, Yosuke tried not to pay attention or else it’d be ruined for him forever, but it might’ve already been too late. With the dull thunk of the latch release, he opened the door and hopped out. Souji slid over to the driver’s side and held open the door when he tried to close it.

“Another thing,” he said. “Watch out for Minato. Please.”

Yosuke looked at him, listening to the repetitive dinging telling them the door was ajar.

“It’ll be a year on March 5th,” Souji explained quietly. “Something might happen.”

Yosuke nodded; he’d been thinking the same. Like some kind of countdown, time was running out.

 

* * *

 

Minato wasn’t alone when the front door opened, but he was by the time Yosuke walked into his bedroom. He rolled over to see that wide, crooked grin. Probably half genuine, half forced; a lot of things about their situation called for that. Minato tried the same.

 _“Welcome home,”_ he said simply. Yosuke dropped his bag on the floor and walked over, looking down at him. _“It’s been pretty boring here without you.”_

The smile faltered. “Sorry.”

_“No, I didn’t mean – uh… it’s okay.”_

Yosuke sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. He kept looking like he was expecting something.

_“What?”_

“Don’t you wanna hear about it? I figured you’d be full of questions. Souji, too; he said I could tell you everything.”

Minato shook his head. _“It’s fine.”_

“Really?” Yosuke fidgeted. “You know… he told me everything. How it happened.”

 _“Shut up,”_ Minato snapped. Yosuke leaned back, surprised, so he arranged his face into something more neutral and spoke more calmly. _“Whatever happened is between you two. We’re not gonna move on if I can’t… uh… it’s not my business anymore.”_

After a moment of contemplation, Yosuke sighed and fell back against the bed. Minato rearranged himself so they were side by side. In the warm, low light of his bedside lamp, Yosuke’s eyes seemed worlds darker, richer. His hand was curled into a loose fist against his chest and Minato wanted so, so badly to put his hand over it, hold it, but he was left with watching. He wondered how such a clumsy, earnest boy kissed.

“What about you? Was everything okay? I see my parents didn’t turn off the TV on you.”

_“Mhm.”_

Yosuke frowned a little, searching Minato’s face for something more. A better answer. The truth.

_“I missed you.”_

The change in Yosuke’s face was subtle; his brows gave the slightest twitch upwards, his lips parted. Minato hadn’t really meant to say it, but he couldn’t stop thinking and the night was quiet – a mix that always seemed to bring about confessions.

Yosuke’s eyes drifted closed and he gave a small, twisted smile before covering his face with his hand.

“You two are killing me,” he muttered. Under his hand, his mouth tightened for a moment as he swallowed something down. Then, “I missed you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Souji’s footsteps echoed down the hospital hallway. It was always a little eerie that time of night, especially with the endless line of windows that acted more as dark mirrors than anything else. He watched his reflection, but with the way his hat cast his face into shadow, he couldn’t see much.

That was how he tripped over a girl’s feet.

Sitting on the chairs just beneath the windows, she was leaning back, legs stretched out as she zoned out – at least until Souji disrupted her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, picking himself up off the ground, face warm. She only shook her head and wiped her face on the back of her hand, looking miserable enough that he hesitated. “Uh… visiting hours are over.”

“I know that,” she said shortly.

“Oh, I didn’t mean – is everything alright?”

She glared up at him with sharp eyes. Souji looked over his shoulder at the room she was waiting outside of. She crossed her arms and stared at the floor, turning her head when Souji didn’t leave.

“Is there something you want?”

What he wanted was to be home, sleeping, not thinking about anything at all – especially not this kind of situation. Thinking he was going to regret it and feeling guilty for it in turn, he asked, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“If you’re hitting on me, you’re not my type.”

“I’m not.”

She eyed his uniform. “Aren’t you working?”

“My shift just ended.”

She shook her head. “Do whatever you want.”

Souji did, and she shifted over to the other side of her chair, crossing her legs and doing everything she could to put more distance between them. Souji sat calmly, pressing his hands between his thighs and crossing his legs at the ankles.

When he didn’t say anything for over five minutes, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“I thought you could use some company.”

She stared at the door and a long moment passed. “He’s going to be fine, you know. They stabilized him. You don’t need to be here.”

Souji shrugged and she sighed, but put up no further complaints.

It was tempting to take the bait and go. Just go home, sleep it away like he wanted to. After everything he’d been through that passed year, running from things and avoiding people, everything felt bigger than that moment. Souji didn’t really believe in fate and when you worked in a hospital it was bound to happen, but there was something about running into a girl faced with death right after his return from facing it head-on. It could have been considered using her, but if it helped them both, then surely there was no cruelty in the action.

The door opened and they both looked up. Sayoko stepped out, eyeing Souji curiously before turning to the girl and speaking gently.

“He’ll be alright, Yumi. He’s asking for you.”

Yumi didn’t move at first, but eventually she got up and headed inside the room. Souji got a glimpse of the man’s bed and an older woman standing beside it before Sayoko closed the door with a sharp snap.

“Please tell me you have better timing than this.”

“I wasn’t hitting on her.”

“No? A young man faced with a defenseless girl? I know what men are like.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Hmm. I’m only teasing,” Sayoko said. With a weary sigh, she took Yumi’s vacated seat. “I know you’re kinder than that. She is pretty though, isn’t she?”

“Beautiful.”

Sayoko sighed again and Souji waited for some quip about youth being wasted on the young or that she could teach him things Yumi never could, but nothing came. She toyed with the hem of her skirt, smoothing it out before folding her hands neatly on her lap.

“Are you alright?”

“My, my. Didn’t your shift already end? Therapy on top of your janitorial duties.”

Souji looked at her and she pursed her lips.

“I received some bad news earlier, that’s all.”

“I’m here if you’d like to talk.”

Sayoko laughed in the back of her throat as she stood up. “Another time; you look just as tired as I feel. Go home and take care of yourself, Souji, or I might find myself worrying about you. You don’t want to trouble me, do you?”

Souji smiled, getting to his feet. “Of course not.”

 

* * *

 

Rapid footsteps thundered down the stairs, to the third last, then Yosuke launched himself off, landing on the wooden floor, slipping on his socked feet, and just barely managing to keep his balance. Over and over, he muttered about being late.

“They’re gonna be here – where the hell is my wallet?”

_“Kitchen counter.”_

Yosuke swore under his breath and raced to get it, just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Minato watched his progress, standing idle with his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, Souji’s here,” Yosuke said, eyes on his phone. He glanced over his shoulder at Minato as he headed for the front entrance. “You’re sure you don’t wanna come? Kou and Daisuke are really funny; you’d like them.”

_“I’m sure.”_

Yosuke stuffed his phone back in his pocket, looking troubled.

_“Souji would know I’m there and he’d have to act normal. He’s never had to do that before. I’d ruin the day for him. It’s better if I just stay here.”_

Yosuke looked like he was casting around for an argument but there wasn’t one because Minato was right and he knew it. At Daisuke’s suggestion, the four of them were going to check out his school in Okina, with Kou coming along as moral support; that was different than Minato just following Yosuke around. Especially now that Souji knew he was there but still couldn’t see or hear him.

Yosuke sighed. “So, what then? Are you just gonna stay here and mope?”

_“I’m not moping. I’m perfectly fine.”_

“Great, but how is this helping? I mean, the 5th is next week. What if something happens? What if that’s it? I just, I thought that things would be different now that he knows, but like, everything’s the same. Are you even trying?”

Minato stared at him. Yosuke stared back, looking upset but resolute. Until his phone dinged again and he pulled open the door, revealing Souji, who had been waiting there all the while. They went through the usual routine of Welcomes and Sorry for the Intrusions, but Minato noticed the way Souji’s eyes swept the room like he was looking for something.

“Kou and Daisuke are running a little late,” he said, indicating his phone. “Apparently Kou slept in and some of Daisuke’s family showed up without warning. Kou said he’d message as soon as they head for the station.”

“That’s fine, I’m still not ready,” Yosuke said. “If you wanna head up to my room, you can. I need to brush my teeth and stuff. And find different pants; I apparently outgrew these.”

“Sure. Uh –” Souji’s eyes did one more look around before he bit his lip and turned, making for the stairs.

Yosuke caught Minato’s eye, but the strained atmosphere still lingered between them, and all he did was shake his head a little before heading for the laundry room. Just to say he did, Minato waited for the length of a breath, then followed Souji.

He was still on the stairs. Minato watched his back as they ascended. This was their first time being alone since he found out the truth. Whatever had happened during their trip, he and Yosuke hadn’t hung out since. They were still talking, still messaging each other constantly, but they were hanging out more with other people. Minato hadn’t asked Yosuke about it, but he didn’t seem too bothered by whatever had happened.

Souji pushed open Yosuke’s bedroom door and Minato followed him inside, choosing to sit on the bed like he always did, scooting a little further away when Souji did the same. He wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knee and watching Souji’s every little movement. After typing out a message to someone, he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Are you here?”

Minato’s heart stopped.

“Can you… I don’t know, knock something over or something? Like the rock trick. Just so I know I’m not talking to myself like an idiot.”

He was frozen for a moment, then turned to the bedside table, concentrated with everything he had, and knocked off a coiled charger for one of Yosuke’s handhelds. Souji’s eyes followed it to the floor and he smiled.

“That’s kinda creepy.”

Minato didn’t smile. His arms tightened around his legs and he waited for whatever was coming. Souji took his time and picked up the charger. When he sat back down he was a little more toward the foot of the bed, farther away than he had been before. Minato couldn’t figure out of it was intentional or not.

“I’ve been thinking, but I can’t figure out how to help you,” Souji said softly. “Being stuck like that… it must be hell, huh?”

Souji rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

“Um… heh, I forget everything I was gonna say. Uh… I want you to know… I thought I did, but I never hated you. Even after… I was angry. I was _so angry_. You hurt me so badly and you were supposed to be the one person that never did. Everything with my parents and school and work, and you were… no matter what, you were always there. Until you weren’t. And… is that selfish? Because I was always there for you too, so I don’t – I don’t know. At least, I tried. I was there when you let me be.”

Clenched tight, Minato’s jaw was starting to ache. Unblinking, his eyes were starting to water. Souji spoke staring as the floor, at the wall, looked all over, brow furrowed as words spilled from him.

“Mm… no, actually, I don’t think it’s selfish to want you to stay alive,” he amended quietly, thoughtfully. “We had such a good thing going. And it could have kept going for years and years. Was it really so bad that the little bits of good you had weren’t worth fighting for? No matter how small, they were there. I was there.

“Sometimes… sometimes, all I could see was my life turning into nothing but working day in and day out. But I thought if you were there then it would be bearable. And I thought… maybe it was kind of sudden,” Souji laughed nervously, “but towards… towards the end, I thought about marriage. But you and I, it’s… I thought that maybe a couple years down the road, by the time we were ready, it would be legal. I had to believe that. Always, I was holding onto some kind of hope. You were my hope. And then you…”

Thankful for once that Souji couldn’t hear him, Minato covered his mouth with his hand and inhaled shakily with a noise like a gasp. He squeezed his eyes shut and two tears rolled down his cheek.

“I love you,” Souji said. His leg started bouncing on the ball of his foot. “I never stopped and I don’t think I ever will. I always loved you, when you were sad just as much as when you were happy. You were never a burden. That’s what you thought, isn’t it? Why you did it. But you never were, you made everything better. You didn’t exist just for yourself. You always had to have a reason for everything, you were always asking ‘why,’ but living doesn’t need a reason. Existing isn’t something you have to justify. We are and that’s enough.”

Souji leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He cleared his throat.

“I think… I’m gonna be okay, Minato. You don’t have to worry about me. I just don’t know how to help you. You need help just as much as I do. But the problem is we can’t be there for each other anymore. I didn’t want to do it like this, but if it’s all we have, then… I don’t know how else to help you.”

Silence settled over the room with both of them sitting there, faces in their hands. Minato’s was slick with tears and he felt sick to his stomach. With the way Souji’s voice had started trembling, he thought the same might’ve held true for him.

In the hallway, a floorboard creaked and footsteps retreated toward the stairs, loud and clumsy. Souji laughed and lowered his hands. Minato was wrong; he wasn’t crying at all.

“Ah, Yosuke heard. How embarrassing.”

Souji got to his feet, hesitated, then looked back at the bed. Since he didn’t actually know where to look, he looked from end to end, passing over Minato a couple times.

“Be kind to yourself, Minato. For me, if not for you.”

 

* * *

 

Yosuke woke on the morning of the 5th with a start. Minato was beside him, breathing slow and deep. Fast asleep. Or sort of asleep. According to him, he didn’t actually sleep anymore. It was just like really, really zoning out – tricking himself into thinking he was sleeping.

Once, a long time ago, Yosuke thought he might’ve seen some documentary on TV about the effects of not sleeping on the stable mind. It wasn’t good. And that was just a week of it, nevermind months. Who knew if that applies to echoes of consciousness or whatever the hell Minato was.

Minato slept on his stomach, arm under his head, as close to the edge as he could get. Close enough that any normal human would tumble to the floor. Sleeping on the bed instead of the floor or closet didn’t make much sense when you considered how scared the guy was of Yosuke rolling in his sleep and accidentally getting possessed, but all that meant was that however scared he was, his loneliness was worse. Besides, since he wasn’t really asleep, he could move out of the way as soon as he heard the mattress creak.

“Minato? Hey.”

Minato’s eyes squeezed tighter for a moment and stretched his legs, letting out a long, slow breath like he was actually waking up. _“Mhm.”_

“It’s the 5th.”

_“And I’m still here.”_

“Feel any different? Less grounded in this realm or anything?”

_“Nope.”_

“Hmm…” Yosuke rolled onto his back and reached for his phone. Predictably, there was already a message from Souji, asking if everything was okay. He responded with an affirmative and got a small, almost immediate reply. “Well… what time did it, uh… happen?”

_“Late.”_

“So, then maybe…”

_“Mhm.”_

That only raised the question of what the hell they were going to do while waiting around for nighttime. How do you spend the anniversary of your death? Yosuke had work and there was something mundane and unglamorous about spending it watching him stocking shelves. But if Minato didn’t come, then he’d just be alone. Unless Yosuke called in sick, but then what? Even if they went somewhere, he couldn’t actually _do_ anything.

_“I’m just gonna sleep.”_

“What?”

Minato didn’t bother repeating himself. He just kept lying there, eyes closed, not even bothering to look at Yosuke.

Last night, Yosuke hadn’t been able to fall asleep. He’d stayed up dreading midnight, convinced something would happen the moment the day ended and the 5th began. But that moment came and went, and nothing happened. Now, eight hours later, it was the same thing: Yosuke was getting anxious, Minato was indifferent to a frustrating degree, and nothing was happening.

Which was a good thing. Probably. Yosuke stared up at the ceiling. Either way, his shift would finish before nighttime; if anything was going to happen, he’d be there for it.

But the day passed with Minato staying in bed, Yosuke working, returning home and finding him exactly where he’d left him, and absolutely nothing happened. Souji was updated via text, but he didn’t seem too surprised, neither at Minato’s lack of a reaction, or that the day turned out to be just like any other.

>It’s been a year since, but he’s only been HERE for a few months. In that sense, a year doesn’t mean much.   
>I just thought it was best to be cautious.

Even with the anticlimax, Yosuke couldn’t help but be nervous. He watched the laptop clock turn to 12:00AM, March 6th while he and Minato watched an interview with a band they liked, and the unsettled feeling didn’t really go away.

The fact the first year anniversary came and went and Minato was still there, it was like a testament to Yosuke’s failure. He was doing everything wrong. Souji was doing better, sure, but it just wasn’t good enough. If this had been left to someone more competent, things would’ve been solved by then. All he could think about was all the days spent doing really nothing at all, hanging out and talking with Minato, growing closer as if their relationship had any future.

_“You okay?”_

Yosuke tore his eyes away from the laptop screen, to Minato. The two of them were sitting against his headboard with the laptop balanced on his bent legs. Minato was as close to Yosuke as he could safely get, his eyes reflecting the screen.

_“You’re being quiet.”_

“I can be quiet.”

Minato tilted his head and there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

“I’m just thinking,” Yosuke admitted.

Minato drummed his fingers against his thigh and turned back to the laptop.

_“You know, uh…”_

Yosuke looked at him. This time, he didn’t look back.

“You’re blushing.”

Minato covered his cheeks. _“Shut up. Just –”_

“What, are you embarrassed?”

_“No! I’m –”_

“Goddamn, I didn’t think you had it in you to be cute.”

 _“I’m not! Will you shut up? I’m trying to say – stop **laughing** ,” _Minato demanded. He was starting to laugh too, his voice taking on a pleading, whiny tone. _“Yosuke…”_

“Sorry, sorry…” Yosuke cleared his throat and tried to wipe the smile off his face. It didn’t work. “What were you saying?”

Minato sighed and looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He definitely was blushing, but it didn’t match his expression anymore.

_“I was gonna say that, uh… I’m – I’m glad it’s you. If it had to be anyone that I got stuck with, I’m… y’know, glad it’s you.”_

Yosuke stared. That unsettled feeling, however much it had abated, was returning worse than ever.

 _“You’re stressing about the date, aren’t you?”_ Minato looked at him, still a little pink but with serious, knowing eyes. Whatever he saw on Yosuke’s face, it made him smile a little. _“I figured, because I would be too. The date feels significant. But it’s okay. I don’t think it actually means anything. You’re, uh, doing good. And… and I’m sorry I’ve been kind of difficult lately. I had something to figure out.”_

“What was it?”

_“You’ll see.”_

 

* * *

 

“I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

Yosuke snickered. “Glad I wasn’t the one to say it.”

Sitting on the couch in his apartment, Souji was hidden behind a brochure from a university in the city. Not Okina – one much further away. A city Yosuke had never been to but one Souji said he once lived near. One that, if he got accepted, would take him far away from Inaba.

Yosuke watched him over the pages of his own brochure. Inaba wasn’t really home for Souji, just some weird pit stop his parents had forced him into that was never meant to be permanent. But he was in a position where it _could_ be permanent and that alone was enough to fill Yosuke’s head with visions of him deciding to stay, healing, moving on… moving on with Yosuke…

But that ignored several key elements.

For that to happen, Yosuke would have to decide to stay in Inaba as well. He’d come to like the place but that didn’t mean he had to stay there for the rest of his life. There was a possibility whatever school he eventually got into wouldn’t be anywhere near Inaba _or_ Souji. They could end up farther away from each other than any of these places would take them from Inaba.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Souji sighed, tossing the brochure onto the couch between them. He sighed and let his head fall back, eyes closed. “I’m in a place where I can finally start thinking about it and… I don’t know. If it’s not my parents’ plan, then… I don’t know what to do. At least with them I knew where I was going. I think I just… want something that’s mine. Something that no one can take away from me, but I don’t know –”

Souji’s phone vibrated in his pocket and his face fell as soon as he saw who was calling.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Parents?”

“My mom.” He rejected the call and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Yosuke gave him a questioning look. “They’ve called a couple times, whenever they remember they have a son. I’ll probably block their numbers eventually but right now this is more satisfying. Apparently they tried starting shit with Dojima, telling him off for not keeping a better eye on me, but he wasn’t having it.”

“Heh. That’s brave; I wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side. But…” Yosuke turned to him. “Are you really okay with leaving things with them like this? They’re your parents.”

“I don’t owe them anything,” Souji snapped, sounding as angry as he had when the truth came out. “I’m not going back. They’re not like yours.”

“Okay,” Yosuke said simply. “Sorry.”

Souji pursed his lips and exhaled through his nose, picking up another brochure.

“Well… have you talked to Dojima about all this? Going back to school, not your parents. He’s gotta have some opinions.”

“Sort of. Last time I went over, after Nanako went to bed, we got to talking. He said, ‘no matter what you do, I’ll be proud of you.’” Souji’s mouth twisted a little and he added softly, “It was kinda nice to hear.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s still early,” Yosuke said fairly. “Even if you took another year off, that’d be fine. You just gotta… go at your own pace. There’s no rush to figure everything out.”

Souji let his head roll against the back of the couch and looked at him. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do yet?”

“Nope. I just know I don’t wanna sit still anymore. I wanna do _something_ , even if I don’t stick with it or end up switching careers down the road. That’s okay, right? I might figure it out on the way.” After a paused, he hesitantly added, “I thought – I’ve sort of thought about something like, uh… graphic design? I mean, I think I’ve got a pretty good eye.”

“You are good at colour coordination,” Souji said. “I’ve noticed that in the way you dress.”

“Oh – okay? Thanks,” Yosuke laughed unsurely. “But I keep thinking, like, I’m gonna be going to school with people that’ve already been doing it for years, or have had an interest in it for longer than I have.”

“So?”

“So… so they’ll be better than I am, they’ll know more.”

“So?”

“So shut up.” Yosuke swung his foot sideways and kicked his leg. “You know what I’m saying.”

“You can do it,” Souji said easily.

“Yeah… I know.”

“How’s Minato doing?”

And that was another key element to their situation. Yosuke toyed with the edge of the brochure until it became soft and curled.

“He didn’t come today, right?” Souji’s eyes swept around his apartment, but there was nothing for him to see. “Is he avoiding me because I know?”

“I don’t think so,” Yosuke said honestly. “He doesn’t seem upset – he seems fine – but he has been kinda quiet lately. Said he’s just got some stuff to think about.”

“Are you sure? Because for a while… before… he acted happy when he really wasn’t. Are you sure he’s not…?”

“Yeah, it’s not like that.”

Souji looked down at his hand, picking at his pantleg. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Me too.”

 

* * *

 

“In like a lion, out like a lamb,” Yosuke’s mother said from the living room, watching him shake water out of his hair. “This won’t last.”

Outside, it was snowing those big flakes that melted as soon as they touched anything. For the last two weeks, winter had been making some pathetic last-ditch effort at staying. Off and on, it had been switching between pleasant spring temperatures and weak winter snowfalls that ended up more like sleet than anything else.

“I hate this time of year,” Yosuke whined, kicking off his boots. “Summer can’t come fast enough. I’m gonna _live_ at the beach.”

With a noise of acknowledgement, his mother turned back to her TV show and vaguely, Yosuke wondered if Souji liked the beach, or if he’d even be interested in going. He used to play volleyball. Maybe they could do that.

Before he could consider it too much, his thoughts trailed off into a dull haze. It had been long shift. Adding their twisted situation onto his mood wasn’t going to help.

“Your father’s not with you?”

“Wh- uh, no. Told me to tell you he’s staying late tonight.”

“Hm. There’s dinner in the fridge.”

“Nah, I think I’m gonna go crash for a bit.”

Yosuke made his way upstairs, dragging his feet and nearly tripping because of it. That time of year, when winter was at its longest, everything always seemed dull and oppressive. Couldn’t walk anywhere without getting your boots covered in mud, the trees were all dead, and there wasn’t even any snow clinging to their branches and making them look somewhat picturesque.

“Minato,” Yosuke drawled playfully, pushing open his bedroom door.

He didn’t have to wait for an answer to see something was wrong. Heart stopping in his chest, his eyes darted around, looking, despite the fact that he _knew_ he wouldn’t find anything. Minato wasn’t sitting on the bed like he always was, wasn’t floating up near the ceiling – he wasn’t anywhere.

“This isn’t funny, Minato,” Yosuke said firmly. His hands curled into fists, any weariness he’d felt gone in an instant. “Is this your idea of a fucking joke? Get out here.”

Silence was his only answer and Yosuke’s chest seized up, hot panic seeping into his stomach. Swearing under his breath, he dropped to his knees and peered under his bed, but Minato wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the closet and he wasn’t outside the window, sitting on the roof of the entranceway. He really wasn’t anywhere in the house. No one but his mom answered – “What the hell are you doing? What’s Minato?” – when he flitted around, looking in every room, under every table.

“Fuck,” Yosuke breathed, heading for the front door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Bouncing on one foot while he tried to pull his boot on the other, he pulled out his cell and stared at Souji’s number, but what the fuck was he supposed to say? This couldn’t be kept from him. Souji might know where he’d go or have some idea Yosuke was blanking on. But there was nowhere Minato _could_ go, not without blacking out. The only explanation was…

“ _Fuck_ ,” Yosuke hissed, pressing dial.

The call went straight to voicemail.

“ _Fuck_!”

Heart hammering, he shoved his boots on, grabbed his jacket from the hook, and bolted into the cold, black night.

 

* * *

 

Souji pushed open his apartment door and it squeaked on its hinges, snapping shut behind him at the exact moment his heart stopped. Fear first, and then something else entirely. His keys fell to the floor and his hands flew to his mouth.

Highlighted by the sunset coming through the window, Minato had a halo of light around him. He shuffled his feet nervously, and he smiled.


End file.
